The Princess and the Pauper
by Ayra Sei Ethari
Summary: "Mr. and Mrs. Lupin," Dumbledore said, "may I introduce you to your godchild, Sariah Alycone." Remus gets a new sister; Sariah gets her first taste of normality. But can a half-blood princess and a werewolf pauper actually get along?
1. Chapter 1

**_The Princess and the Pauper_**

_Summary:_ "Mr. and Mrs. Lupin," Dumbledore said, "may I introduce you to your godchild, Sariah Alycone." Remus gets a new sister; Sariah gets her first taste of normality. But can a half-blood princess and a werewolf pauper actually get along?

_Rating:_ K for now; in later chapters, T

_Genre:_ humor ; friendship ; angst ; romance

_Canon Character(s):_ Remus Lupin ; Lily Evans ; James Potter ; Sirius Black ; Severus Snape ; Fenrir Greyback ; Harry Potter ; Peter Pettigrew ; Albus Dumbledore

_OC Character(s):_ Sariah Alycone ; Remus's parents

_Set During:_ Part One will be during Remus Lupin's school years at Hogwarts; Part Two will follow the actual Harry Potter books and then meander into my own dash of non-canon

_Note:_ Warning: This story _does not_ follow the storyline of the actual fairytale The Princess/Prince and the Pauper. I have simply borrowed this title because it is convenient for the story.

Now, moving on. I posted this story at the, uh, _urging_ of my best friend Crazytenor42. This story is still going under major construction; however, it will no longer be on hiatus, as my writer's block has finally lifted. So I will be pulling and revamping all of the chapters before I continue with the storyline.

Also, be aware that Sariah Alycone is not getting adopted right away.

* * *

**_Chapter One_**

**First Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
"Excuse me?"

I looked up, surprised. A young girl about my age with long dark red hair and almond-shaped green eyes was standing outside the compartment, a shy yet polite expression on her face. A black-haired and black-eyed boy, already clad in the Hogwarts robes, stood beside her, looking wary, sour, and bored all at once – a feat I regarded as quite impressive.

And yet . . . And yet somehow, despite their differences, they seemed as though they were comfortably friendly. They were the kind of people who happen to have the temperaments that make them really good friends without much effort.

I stood. "Yes?" I asked in reply, curious.

In my experiences in the Muggle world, it was rare for girls and boys to be good friends at our age. Then again, I didn't spend too much time among Muggle kids anyway, so perhaps I was wrong.

The girl slid the door open more. "Can we sit here? Everywhere else is . . . occupied." The way in which she spoke the last word told me that she had just had a rather nasty experience with someone else on the train.

"Sure," I answered. "No one else is here."

She smiled at me and walked in. The boy entered behind her. He didn't smile, but I almost doubted he even could; his appearance spoke wonders about him, and those 'wonders' weren't exactly appealing.

"Your first year here?" I inquired.

The girl nodded. "I'm Lily, and this is Severus," she said, introducing herself and the boy sitting next to her.

"I'm Sariah."

I glanced out the window briefly, trying to wonder how to phrase my observations. Lily seemed somehow even newer to this world than I did, more than one should. . . "You're a Muggle-born, aren't you?"  
The boy she called Severus tensed. "So what?" he snapped, rising to her defense at once. "She's probably better at magic that you are."

I raised my hands. "I didn't mean it as a condemnation, _Severus Snape_," I shot back, emphasizing the name.

Oh, yes, I knew who Severus Snape was – I _definitely_ knew who he was. His mother, Eileen Prince, and my mother had gone to Hogwarts together . . . and they hadn't exactly been best friends, either.

"Who are you?" Severus demanded, starting to rise.

"Sariah. Sariah Alycone."

I saw understanding flash across Severus's face at once, and he sat back down. "Oh. Sorry." The words didn't sound real.

But that didn't really bother me.

"How did you know I was Muggle-born?" Lily asked, drawing my attention.

I shrugged. "My mother is a Muggle-born, and my dad is a pure-blood. I listen to their stories a lot. My dad always says that he knew my mom was a Muggle-born because she acted new to things, just like you. There's no problem with being Muggle-born. You can't help being born that way." I leaned forward. "By the way, who'd you run into earlier?"

Lily blinked. "I don't really know. . . I've never met them before."

"Let me guess – two arrogant boys, both with dark hair and both condemning Slytherin," I said, scowling.

"Um, yes."

I snorted. "James Potter and Sirius Black. I ran into them earlier. Unfortunately, we're stuck with them – they're first years too."

Lily laughed. "Well, we'll all be suffering together, won't we, Severus?"

She nudged him when he didn't respond, but only succeeded in getting an answering noncommittal grunt in return.

The train ground to a smooth halt just then as we finally arrived at Hogwarts, smoother than any Muggle train ever would be. I grinned. _I love magic._ I stood, giving them polite nods.

"See you at the feast then, Lily, Severus."

~ _Lily Evans_ ~  
"GRYFFINDOR!"

I returned the Sorting Hat to Professor McGonagall and set off for the Gryffindor table, which was letting out applause to greet me as they had greeted all of the other new Gryffindors before me. Polite applause, but I welcomed it all the same.

But just before I sat, I cast a sad smile over my shoulder at Severus, whose pained expression made it clear how sad he was.

The rest of the Sorting seemed to pass in a blur, and I watched as the line of my classmates became shorter and shorter. I watched as the boy from the train – the one who had insulted Severus – joined our table and sat on the other side of the boy who sat beside me. I also watched as Severus was Sorted into Slytherin.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the Sorting was over and the feast had begun.

"Have you and Severus been friends for a long time?"

I looked up, startled. The girl we had met on the train – Sariah, I remembered, was her name – was looking at me.

For the first time, I noticed that her eyes weren't gray as I had thought, but silver, really _silver_ in color. But then again, I hadn't really looked at her either when we had met on the train. Still . . . With her long black hair tumbling about her shoulders to join her black Hogwarts robes, her eyes looked like stars shining against an inky night backdrop.

And there was something in her soft yet commanding voice and her almost perfect, regal posture that made one automatically begin to answer, as if she was a teacher . . . or a princess, as her name implied.

"Yes, we grew up together," I answered.

Sariah smiled, but her expression was slightly wistful, as if she was feeling as self-conscious of her friendlessness as I was of my lesser beauty. "Lucky you. I didn't know anyone coming in – except my parents, of course."

I shrugged. "Yeah, but you have more experience in the magical world. I bet you know a lot more than I do when it comes to spells and stuff."

Sariah raised an eyebrow. "I don't, actually," she said. "Even though my parents came to Hogwarts, we're not allowed to do magic in front of Muggles. I went to Muggle elementary school just like my parents did before me. So I really don't have much of an advantage."

"Wasn't it weird, going to Muggle – " _I'm never going to get used to using that word to describe my family_ " – school, yet knowing that magic existed?"

"I was too young to know about it," Sariah said in an almost sheepish manner. "Or remember."

"Same here."

We both laughed. It was nice to have someone else to compare to, someone who didn't scorn me for being different like Petunia had. Severus had been like that. But obviously, I couldn't just have Severus as a friend; Sariah would be a nice friend to have as well.

"You say you don't know anyone," I said once we stopped laughing. "But don't you know some of the teachers, at least?"

Sariah turned to the High Table, her eyes flashing across the wizards and witches seated there. "Yeah. That's Professor Dumbledore – he's the headmaster of the school. They say he's the greatest wizard ever to live."

I eyed the wizard she had pointed out with newfound interest. _He looks a little too old to be such a great wizard_, I found myself thinking. _And that white beard is really, really long._ "How old is he?"

"Uh . . . _old_."

"Great answer," I said between laughs. Sariah rolled her eyes and returned to her eating. Eyeing her, I thought, _I think we're gonna be good friends._

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
"Hey – you all right?"

The question startled me out of the doze I'd fallen into. Sitting up, I looked wildly around before my eyes settled on a girl who was sitting across from me, a concerned expression on her face. Her long nightgown was covered by a small shawl that wrapped around her shoulders, and her long hair fell unbound down her back.

"Yes, just – uh – tired."

Well, it wasn't really a lie. I _was_ tired. More than tired, more like. There had been a full moon the day before school had started, and I had transformed back into a human just in time to pack and get on the train.

The girl's concerned expression didn't go away.

"Why don't you go to bed, then?" she suggested, her voice filled with friendly concern. "You'll get a better sleep there than here."

I smiled. "Point taken. I'm Remus, by the way," I said, offering my hand.

She grasped it at once. "Sariah. Nice name. It has an interesting history behind it. Good night, Remus." Then she let go and made her way up the girls' staircase.

I looked down at my hand. It was still tingling from when she had held it. And the air was still swirling with her delicate, flowery scent.

I shook my head sharply to clear away that scent and chase it away from my memories. My senses were still heightened from the full moon, apparently. Hopefully, though, the heightened abilities would go away soon, like they always had.

_I wonder if she would have held my hand so quickly if she knew I was a werewolf_, I thought miserably. No doubt if my secret slipped to her, she'd be the first to run.

"What was that about going to bed, Remus?"

Sariah was back, her hands on her hips, and a bossy expression on her face. The light from the fire danced on her slim figure, making her nightgown turn an auburn color.

I pretended to groan. "What, are you preparing to be a prefect?" I asked mulishly, clambering out of the comfortable sofa.

Sariah grinned. "Yep. And you're being a wonderful test subject."

"Great. Now I'm a guinea pig."

Sariah started laughing. "No, I meant you're being stubborn. Perfect situation for me to practice bossing you boys around." She turned around and started up the stairs.

I started to the stairs too.

"Oh, and Remus?"

I turned around. Sariah had stopped on the stairs. The waning moon's light perfectly illuminated her figure, as if she had a faintly glowing corona.

"You wouldn't be a guinea pig, Remus," she said softly. "You'd be a wolf, just like your namesake."

I stared at her as she disappeared. _Has she guessed? Does she – Does she know what I am?_ With these troubling thoughts, I went off to bed, in search of a sleep that probably would never come now.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter Two_**

**First Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I saw very little of Remus over the next few weeks. I just gotten closer to Lily and being Lily's friend didn't mean chasing after a boy that I had met when he had fallen asleep in a chair.

But for some reason I couldn't get the thought of Remus out of my head. There was just something about how he had looked – ill, exhausted, aged beyond his years. He looked so different from the eager, noisy boys that crowded the classroom. Even though my recollection of him was brief and fading, I was still stuck with that same feeling that he was different in some ambiguous way that I hadn't figured out yet.

I was shaken out of my daydream by the professor's voice.

"Evans, partner Potter."

I grinned at Lily as she bit her lip. She glared at me, and my grin only got bigger.

The D.A.D.A. professor had taught us _Expelliarmus_, the disarming spell, and was now breaking us up into partners to practice. He also had an annoying habit of assigning girls with boys. And Potter was _very_ irritating to be partnered with.

"Alycone."

I looked up as my name was called.

"Alycone, partner Lupin."

_Um . . . okay. Who's Lupin?_ We all had been in classes together for a fair few months now, but honestly – we did not address each other by our last names! Only the professors did that.

Lily grinned at my obvious distress. _She_ knew who her partner was. I stuck my tongue out at her and stood up. The professor was done assigning partners, and everyone was standing and finding their partners.

I followed the professor to his desk. "Um, professor? I, uh, don't know who –"

He understood me perfectly, which was a partial relief. Much as I didn't want to be partner less, I wanted even less to draw attention to the fact that I still barely knew my classmates. Standing up, he bellowed, "Lupin!"

I winced. _Oh, just brilliant. . ._

The class, after being momentarily distracted by this, turned back to their task. And then I saw this _Lupin_ coming. It was –

"_Remus_?" I asked in disbelief as he came up to me.

He nodded in an almost shy manner. "Hello, Sariah," he said nervously.

"Get going, you two!" my professor barked, shattering the awkward moment. Immediately, we began moving away to practice.

As we walked away from the professor, I noticed something odd – a scar traced its way across one of Remus's cheeks. It looked livid and angry, as though any moment it could open and start dripping blood down Remus's cheek.

I frowned. Madam Pomfrey was the head healer and supposed to be good at healing wounds – and I knew that I hadn't seen that scar before when Remus and I had first met. My memory may have been fuzzy, but it wasn't _that_ bad.

"What happened to you?" I asked in concern.

Remus frowned in return. "What do you mean?"

His expression became slightly self-conscious. So either he had grown used to the scar – meaning that it had happened during the months we hadn't talked – or he just didn't want to draw attention to it.

I desperately hoped it was not the former.

Raising a hand, I hesitantly touched the scar.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I jumped back in shock when I felt her warm fingers touch my scar – the same scar I had inflicted on myself during one of my recent transformations. The touch made the wolf instincts inside me rise – the instincts that were now clamoring for me to snarl and pounce. But I forced the instinct down, the human part of me rejecting such a move against an innocent girl.

Sariah immediately apologized. She may not have known about the wolf, but apparently she has guessed my reaction and realized she had done something wrong.

"I'm sorry; I just – you didn't answer my question and – what _did_ happen to you? The hospital wing could fix that."

I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "It's an old scar that I'd – I'd rather not talk about," I muttered, wishing she wouldn't question me.

"Oh. _Expelliarmus_!" she added, sending my wand flying from my hand.

"Show-off," I scolded, bending over to retrieve my wand. Luckily, because it was only her first attempt, my wand hadn't flown far.

Sariah smiled innocently, leaning on the edge of the desk. Her black Hogwarts robes blended in nicely with her long black hair, and made her smiling gray eyes stand out even more.

_No_, I corrected myself. _Not gray eyes. Silver._

"_Expelliarmus_!" I tried. Her wand twitched, but didn't fly away as mine had. I scowled. _If she can do it, so can I._ Around me, I heard similar exclamations of the incantation as my classmates tried it.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

This time, her wand did more than just twitch slightly – in fact, it flipped out of her hand, flying away over her shoulder. A moment later, my professor ducked as Sariah's wand went spinning overhead and clattered against the wall.

I flushed as the professor drew his own wand and recalled Sariah's. My embarrassment deepened when I heard barely concealed giggles and saw some smug smirks out of the corner of my eye.

Sariah frowned at the crowd.

"It's all right, Remus," she assured me. "I did worse when I first started using magic. Much, _much_ worse."

"What did you do?" I inquired, distracted. I was embarrassed by what had just happened, but the temptation of learning something so personal from Sariah overcame it.

It was Sariah's time to flush.

"I, uh, I sent my mom's vase out a window," she muttered quietly. Her cheeks had turned a slight pink color, adding a rose hue under her strange silver eyes.

I couldn't hold back a small, choked laugh. I just couldn't imagine this regal looking girl sending a vase out a window. As if guessing my thoughts, Sariah grinned in a sheepish way, and her grin became bigger when, with another flick of her wand and a muttered word, she sent my wand flying.

As the class continued, Sariah and I exchanged more bits of personal information, interrupted only when a wand from some other pair went whizzing toward us and we were forced to duck or be hit on the face.

I learned that she had a passion for literature, and that she liked to innovate. Her mother had read to her from a young age, and even now she loved to read and scribble down the names of new books that interested her. Her father was skilled in Transfiguration and Charms, and was constantly coming up with new ideas that sometimes became new spells – and sometimes blew up in his face.

Sariah made me laugh on and on when she animatedly described the time when her father had invented a spell he had sworn would change the world – only to find all it did was alert every gnome within a ten-mile radius and cause a gnome stampede towards their house. I had paid for my laughter with a rather hard smack to my butt by a stray wand that had made me jump five feet in the air and had, in turn, given Sariah the excuse to laugh at me.

In return, I told her about my own childhood, purposely omitting my encounter with the werewolf and giving only vague day-to-day details to avoiding getting close to my full moon transformations.

But I did tell her of my interest in D.A.D.A.

She seemed genuinely interested in my interest, although she did not share it, and she proceeded to continue to ask me about them as much as I had asked her about her daily life.

I would have thought her questions annoying, but instead I was actually secretly pleased – it was nice to have someone who didn't fear to talk to me because I was a werewolf, who simply saw me as a fellow person with whom you could chat normally with.

Of course, then again, she didn't _know_ that I was a werewolf.

And, also of course, I had no intention of ever telling her that I was a werewolf.

But beside that, we seemed to get along fine.

"What kind of creatures have you read about?" Sariah asked, shifting to the side to avoid someone else's wand.

"Just the ones that interested me," I answered easily, flicking my wand and sending hers across the room with a mutter of the incantation. Neither of us had to really focus on it anymore. "Grindylows, Red Caps, hinkypunks – you know, that general sort of – "

"Time's up!" shouted my professor, finally standing up after almost half an hour of practice when it was wildly transparent that everybody had gotten good at the spell and wands were flying in every direction with each passing minute. "Good work, class. And remember to do your homework!"

I lowered my wand, and turned away.

Moments later, I started when I felt a body collide with my back.

Turning in surprise, I saw Sariah picking herself up, glaring at one of the boys. I fought another grin, realizing that Sariah had probably just jumped out of the path of a flying wand, and my grin widened when I saw a boy scurry around her and move to scoop up a wand.

"Well, it was nice to work with _you_, Remus," Sariah said, still glaring at the boy, but managing to give me a small and real smile.

And when I left the classroom later on, I felt a whole lot better about staying at Hogwarts.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter Three_**

**Year Two at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I sighed in frustration. Nothing that I was doing was helping this stupid potion turn the right color, even though I was sure that I had followed every direction perfectly.

"What's wrong?"  
Lily looked up from her own potion – which was perfectly fine – at my sigh. I gestured at the cauldron in front of me. "It's _still_ the wrong color," I said with a groan. "You know, come sixth year, I'm not sure if I'll continue with Potions."

Lily smiled. "Oh, don't talk like that, Sariah," she scolded, moving around the desk.

After one quick glance at my potion, she began to add things and do all sorts of things. I stepped back, letting her do it. I knew that while I could best Lily in Transfiguration, she was beyond a doubt the Potions expert.

Looking across the classroom, I saw proof of Lily's brilliance – of all the students attempting to make this potion, only one was even close to Lily: Snape.

Snape and Lily continued their friendship, I knew, even though they had been sorted into Houses that by nature always fought – Gryffindor and Slytherin. The relationship between Snape and me was more cordial, and pretty much all because of Lily. I had long since stopped calling him by his first name, and most Gryffindors and Slytherins followed the same habit.

Lily and I had both been sorted into Gryffindor, and during the feast we had discovered that we shared a ton of things in common. From there our friendship had pretty much taken off. Lily was skilled at the on-hands part of school – she picked up new spells and potions like breathing. I was better at the studying and memorizing part – writing all of our essays was a piece of cake. So we basically helped each other.

"There!" Lily exclaimed, bringing my focus back to the present rather sharply.

"What did you do?" I asked in dismay, studying my now correctly colored potion. "Are you sure you didn't conjure or summon this?"

Lily laughed. "Very funny, Sariah. But, no, I don't think the professor would appreciate that." Then she leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "By the way, I heard that Black has taken an interest in you," she whispered, her green eyes twinkling with laughter.

I scowled. Black and Potter. The two best pals who strode around the school like they owned it. The two best pals who, even though had taken interest in Lily, were absolutely _not_ adored in our circles.

"You're just thrilled to dump that notoriety on someone besides yourself, _Mrs. Potter_," I hissed back.

In truth, I knew that she was only joking. Sirius Black and my father were cousins, actually, and Andromeda Tonks was my favorite aunt. My father had been disowned just like my aunt had when the two of them had married Muggle-borns, and my father had changed our surname to Alycone, my mother's surname, to show that even if the family hadn't ostracized him, he had ostracized _them_.

But I was not joking about Potter.

Potter really did fancy Lily, and there really was no reason to question why – Lily was pretty, lively, popular, and so many other things. Even the fact that she was Muggle-born did not deter him; but then again, while Potter was known for many things, he wasn't known for discriminating against Muggle-borns. That was the job of the Slytherins.

Lily sighed. "Don't tease me about Potter, Sariah," she requested quietly, returning to her own cauldron. "He's – He's just an – an annoying moron."

I raised an eyebrow. "Nice way to return to his compliments, Lily. Didn't we learn manners in elementary school?"

Lily only had time to stick her tongue out at me before we were interrupted.

"And time's – up!" came the shout from the professor's desk.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I looked up from my potion to see Lily and Sariah talking. It was not an unusual occurrence, as the two were best friends of the like one rarely saw; what was unusual was defined in the sharp contrast of the expressions flashing across their faces. Lily's face was alive with amusement, while Sariah looked a lot less gleeful.

Now, usually in the dark of the dungeon, I wouldn't be able to make out their faces so clearly, but with the full moon in a couple days, my senses were heightened tremendously, eyesight and hearing included.

"Are you sure you didn't conjure or summon this?" Sariah was asking, staring at her potion, which, I noticed, was correctly colored now.

Lily laughed, stepping away. "Very funny, Sariah. But, no, I don't think the professor would appreciate that." Then I saw her lean closer to Sariah. "By the way, I heard that Black has taken an interest in you.

The words made me freeze.

Black.

As in _Sirius Black_.

I glanced over at Sirius, who was currently hissing something under his breath to James, who was shooting Lily covert glances. Typical behavior for the two of them, of course, but . . .

In all of my dreams, never had I imagined that Sirius might fall for Sariah. He just seemed too . . . disinterested in girls in general to fall for Sariah. He had a lot more fun helping James play pranks on people, in my opinion.

"You're just thrilled to dump that notoriety on someone besides yourself, _Mrs. Potter_," I heard Sariah hiss back at Lily.

I had to smile at that – Lily really wasn't interested in James, but he was all too set on making his affections for her clear. He was more than confident he'd eventually get her.

Obviously, Lily did not share that confidence, for at Sariah's comment the amusement faded at once to be replaced by wariness, resignation, and annoyance. A typical response for her in terms of the subject matter called "James Potter and His Infatuation with Lily Evans".

"Moony," I heard James say softly. I turned to my friend, whose hazel eyes were glinting mischievously.

"What are you planning now?" I asked suspiciously, my attention returning to James and Sirius. The two of them were wearing silly, innocent grins that I knew at once meant trouble.

"Nothing," they answered together.

I rolled my eyes.

Their grins got bigger.

The professor then shouted "Time's up!" causing a flurry of activity as students put down various bottles and ingredients. James and Sirius immediately assumed contrite, waiting expressions, but their eyes sparkled with plans. I eyed them nervously.

When the professor had checked everyone's potion, everyone started cleaning up. I finished first, as James and Sirius were still fooling around. Sighing, I made my way to lunch.

~ _Sirius Black_ ~  
Remus gave me another suspicious look as soon as James and I sat down, breaking off his conversation with Alycone to turn his attention to me.

"What?" I asked innocently.

Alycone, who was sitting next to Remus, looked up at my question. Her silver eyes narrowed slightly. "Is this what you meant, Remus?" she questioned.

Remus snorted. "What else would I mean?" he retorted.

Alycone smiled at that. "You're a Marauder too, Remus; you've played your own tricks with them on people, I know you have. . ."

Under her carefully chosen, coaxing words, Remus flushed slightly. I shared a smirk with James.

Alycone was the only one able to unsettle Remus in such a delicate way so easily. And Remus, in turn, was the only Marauder that Alycone tolerated teasing or pranks from. If James or I tried a prank on her, she'd turn the tables and hex us without batting an eyelash.

Remus, however, had been able to pull many pranks on her – jinxing snowballs to aim directly for her face in snowball fights; giving her an unannounced shower by shoving her into the lake; stealing her diary and holding it above her head while she jumped around him trying to get it back; and so many other incidents. Each time, Remus somehow managed to catch her unawares and unarmed, and each time, he had managed to escape mostly unscathed. I mean, sure, she'd yell a bit, but hex him? Nope.

Us?

Oh, you bet.

And James and I had started wondering if that wasn't coincidence.

Alycone and Remus – who gave me one last suspicious look – returned to their conversation. Alycone's eyes were relaxed now, and she spoke as calmly to Remus as she ever did. Alycone was a strange one, James often said. Alycone was best friends with Evans, who avoided the Marauders like a plague, and yet Alycone continued a strong friendship with Remus.

But then again, Evans was also best friends with Snivellus, something I couldn't understand either.

James suddenly cleared his throat, looking at me meaningfully.

I nodded slowly. It _was_ time to break up Remus's little conversation with Alycone.

James grinned and stood up. Seizing Remus's hand, he yanked the startled boy up as well. "Come on, homework time!" James said, cutting off Remus's protestations and practically dragging him away.

Alycone eyed the two with confusion.

"What are you planning now?" she demanded, mirroring the same tone and expression as Remus as she turned on me.

I understood. "James Potter" and "homework" were never quite meant to be in the same sentence. Perhaps, never meant to ever be in the same sentence together. I fervently prayed for that, for sure.

"Why don't we go find out?" I replied, pulling her up.


	4. Chapter 4

It is now the week of the midterm exams for me, and last year, I had the idea for my "midterm marathon" which I shall continue this year. Basically, it means I will post a chapter each day of midterms. So, Day 1 of the Midterm Marathon – we find out exactly _what_ James and Sirius were planning for Sariah and Remus. . .

* * *

**_Chapter Four_**

**Year Two at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I eyed the corridors that flashed by with growing alarm. We were supposed to be following James and Remus, and I doubted they would have gone to the common room. So the library was an available choice. . .

Only – this wasn't the way to the library.

I might have only been a second-year and, yeah, I still got lost on the way to new classes or classes that got moved due to teachers' whims and lessons, but even I wasn't _that_ dumb. I had gone there myself plenty of times already (because the library sometimes was the best place to be when the Marauders got going as they would not _dare_ defile the library of Madame Pince), and this definitely was _not_ the way. At all.

_We should have turned right five turns back, at least._

"Sirius, what – where are you taking me?" I finally blurted, pulling on his hand to slow us. "This is not the way to the library!"

Sirius flashed a playful grin over his shoulder. "'Course it's not the way to the library," he said matter-of-factly. "Did you really swallow that lie? Come on, Alycone, I'd hope you're smarter than that."

"Sirius Black, _hold it right here_!" I shouted, yanking my hand away from him. "Where on earth are we going?"

He merely grinned and produced his wand with a flourish.

I let my hand dangle and slowly dip into the pocket of my cloak, letting my fingers close around my wand, but not drawing it yet. If he had already drawn it, I wanted the advantage of surprise, for it would be my _only_ advantage. Sirius wasn't as great with the wand as I was, but he knew more spells that would cause more trouble – a throwback to his numerous experiments on jinxing the rest of us.

"If you're going to duel me, Black, you should know you're going to lose," I informed him calmly.

Sirius flicked his wand at me; I flinched –

And he turned around and pointed his wand at a stack of boxes nearby. I saw his lips move in a very quiet incantation – he had mastered the technique over two years of playing pranks on the rest of us, causing daily devastation and annoyance – and sure enough, it worked.

Everything fell over with a crash, and I heard the tell-tale screech of Mrs. Norris.

I watched for a few seconds, mouth agape, before my wits returned and I drew my wand. "_Repa_ – " I started to say.

He seized my wand arm, ruining my incantation and my aim in a single move.

Filch, with his impeccable timing, appeared and came scurrying towards us just right then later, his face livid.

"You again!" he screeched at Sirius. "And you!"

"What – no – No, I didn't – "

Sirius grinned, saluted cockily, and then seized my hand and started running. The awkward footsteps behind us toward me that Filch wasn't far behind. But I couldn't pull my hand away; Sirius was going so fast that if I did, I'd find myself doing a face-plant on the floor – and have a detention to match it.

"Sirius, what was that about?" I panted, trying to keep pace with him. "Black, _answer me_!"

"I think it's very elementary," Sirius called over his shoulder, tugging harder on my hand. "I just made Filch pissed, so now we're running from him – and the detention."

"Yes, but – "

I ducked under the tapestry into a secret passage a moment too late and got a mouthful of rug. Coughing and spitting it out, I managed, " – but where the heck are we going?"

"Seventh floor," Sirius answered, his voice slightly muffled as it floated back to me.

"What's – on – the – seventh – floor?" I gasped, trying to talk and regain my breath as we dashed up the stairs. I rarely went up the seventh floor, as the library and the Gryffindor common rooms certainly weren't up there and I wasn't ready to take Divination and we only passed through the floor on the way to Astronomy, so. . .

"Stuff," came Sirius's vague answer.

I swore quietly before raising my voice so Sirius could hear.

"I hate you, Sirius Black," I said, projecting my voice towards my father's cousin with all the venom I could muster with me being out of breath and having tons of stitches in my side. "And as soon as we, stop, I am going to curse you."

Sirius tossed another cocky grin over his shoulder as we finished the stairs and started running on the flat corridor. "Love you too, Alycone," he replied cheekily.

Then he stopped so suddenly that I walked – well, ran – right into him. I doubled over, trying to catch my breath, and trying to remember the worst possible curse we had learned. Usually, I would also bring up a list of countercurses when I got ready to hex one of the Marauders, but this time I didn't intend to use to fix whatever damage I caused. . .

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a door in front of me.

Frowning, I turned to Sirius. I may not have really examined the seventh floor, but I never remembered a door here –

Too late.

A push from Sirius sent me flying forward.

The door flew open when I was just centimeters from breaking my nose on it, and then I tripped over the threshold. I fell . . .

. . . right into somebody's very, very, very startled arms.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
The moment the door slammed shut behind me, I knew I had walked into a trap. No, even before then – I had known the second James had uttered the word "homework". James never _did_ his homework, and if he did, he certainly never asked for my help. Yep, I had known something was up from that second; but I hadn't known what – or been able to warn Sariah.

And my fears had been proven true when James had provoked Peeves into chasing us all the way to the seventh floor, where he had shoved me into this room. The door was locked behind me. I had tried every spell I could think – and a few curses that I hadn't expected would, along with a few kicks and pushes – but no, I couldn't get out. I was trapped here until James saw fit to let me out or someone dropped in on my impromptu hiding place and was kind enough to let me out.

I sighed. If word ever got out about this, I doubted I'd be able to show my face without flushing for another year or so.

Especially if Sariah found out. Sariah, the one who always called me the voice of reason and the manifestation of actual brains in the marauders, would no doubt tease me mercilessly upon finding out that the supposedly "smart" Marauder was the one who had been the most easily duped by his gang of not-as-smart friends.

_This is the last time I let James drag me off_, I thought in annoyance.

Inevitably, whenever I let James drag me off, I ended up somewhere I didn't want to be and regretted it for a very long time afterward. It was part of being one of the Marauders, I supposed, and I liked being part of a group of friends, but still. . .

Carefully, I stood, slipped my wand back into my robes, and started examining the room. It seemed old, very old, with glossy wooden walls and a high arching ceiling. It was plain and unadorned, but what surprised me was that there was no furniture. Almost every Hogwarts room looked old, as this was an old castle to start with, but they also all had furniture – chairs, desks, shelves, and so on.

At least, every Hogwarts room I had seen, for just as I had thought about furniture. .

There was the strangest sound, like half-oiled chains rustling around each other, and slowly the room started shifting into a classroom. A bookshelf appeared, filled to the brim with books. Chairs and desks popped up, orderly as in every other classroom. The arching stairway at the opposite end of the chamber and adjacent room the stairway led to, where the teacher of the classroom usually lived throughout the year, came into view. The room brightened as clear windows, dotted with stained glass figures, materialized at the top of the walls with varnished wood carvings of buttresses and arches twining around them. Finally, part of the wall collapsed in, revealing a crackling fireplace that sent bursts of warmth into the otherwise chilly room.

My jaw dropped. I couldn't even _begin_ to think of effort and spellcasting and preparing it would take to make a room like this.

I heard the door open, and turned around, the words, "About time!" right on my lips when –

Sariah practically fell over the threshold, and into my arms.

I caught her easily, slowing her descent to the floor enough that the floor didn't bite into her knees. To say I was absolutely, totally, without a doubt floored by surprise was an understatement . . . especially when I realized that Sariah had close to a death grip on my robes.

~ _Sirius Black_ ~  
I snickered as the door closed and then vanished behind Sariah. She wouldn't be coming out for some time, I was quite sure of that. . . Seconds later, Prongs emerged from his hiding place in a nearby cupboard, a similar grin on his own face as he came to stand beside me, both of us staring at the place where the door had been when James had wished it into existence.

"That was quick, Padfoot," Prongs said, stretching and ruffling his hair with a casual air.

I snorted. "More like easy. She didn't start insulting me until – "

"_Alycone_ insulted _you_? Oh, no!" Prongs gasped dramatically, clutching at his heart as though he was having some sort of heart attack – or perhaps a hallucination and seizure was a better description.

"Shut it, Prongs," I interrupted. "As I was saying, she didn't start insulting me until she noticed that we were going in the wrong direction to the library."

Prongs raised an eyebrow at me. "You told her you were taking her to the library?" he repeated incredulously. "Oh, come on, Padfoot! Surely you can think of a better lie than that!"

"Yeah, but it was easier to get her come along if she thought we were going after Moony."

"Oh."

Now Prongs's face was thoughtful; well, as thoughtful as it could possibly get. But then again, we _were_ plotting, and that was what the Marauders were best at. Especially when it involved one of our own. . .

"Good point, Padfoot."

Then, with a flourish, he pulled out the Invisibility Cloak. "Come on."

We settled under the Cloak, content to wait until Moony and Alycone figured out how to get out. Prongs thought they would be out soon – once they figured out _how_ that was. I mean, neither of them had ever been in the Room of Requirement ever before.

I bet in completely the other direction.


	5. Chapter 5

Day 2 of the Midterm Marathon – Sariah and Remus explore the Room of Requirement. . .

* * *

**_Chapter Five_**

**Year Two at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
As the person caught me, I seized the front of their robes, trying in vain to keep myself from falling. The person seemed to have better reflexes than me, though, and I felt their arms close around me, slowing my rather ungraceful descent to the floor.

"_Sariah?_"

I blinked in surprise, looking up.

Seconds later found me bright red in the face.

It wasn't just any person's robes I had a death grip on – it was _Remus Lupin_, out of all people!

Remus looked just as surprised as I felt embarrassed. And a blush was slowly creeping across his cheeks too, making his blue eyes stand out even more than usual against the light brown backdrop of his hair.

We released each other at the same time.

After a moment of blushing furiously, I finally found the courage to ask, "James?"

Remus nodded the affirmative, the blush in his cheeks dying away as his blue eyes flickered with annoyance to the said Marauder. "Yes. Sirius?"

"Who else?" I returned dryly.

Remus laughed. "Good point, Sariah."

Then I looked around. "Where are we anyway?" Catching his expression, I hastily added, "If you know, of course."

"Hmm . . ." Remus bit his lip. "I'm not quite sure."

I glanced around the room for a second time; Remus knew Hogwarts better than I ever would, so if he didn't know. . .

But there was nothing, no hint or clue or signal, that told me this room should be different. It seemed plain – just a simple room with four walls and a classroom setting, a fire crackling in the corner, windows gracing the walls, and chairs and desks everywhere. Perhaps it was simply some sort of extra classroom that had never been used for some time. And yet something felt wrong about that assumption, but I couldn't pinpoint what. . .

"Maybe it's a spare classroom," I suggested.

He flashed me a look. "No," he said. "I don't see any dust."

"Filch keeps things clean. We all know he's an obsessive neat freak," I reminded him, surprised he had forgotten.

Remus shook his head, and for once he didn't rise to the bait. "I know," he murmured. "But there are other things too, Sariah. The fire, for instance – "

As he spoke, I turned my gaze to the fire. _Hmm. Nothing strange about that. . . It's magic._

And then the room changed colors.

There was a strange sound in the room, like a breeze swishing at cloth or a long sigh echoing over the wind, and slowly the polished mahogany color gave way to a brilliant mixture of red, orange, and yellow, as if the fire had been turned to the colors of a paint palette and then had been splattered across the canvas – in this case, the wall.

My jaw dropped. "How . . ."

"That's what I meant. It did that for me too. . . I was thinking that this was a spare classroom and wondering why there weren't any desks or chairs or anything – and then I got _this_."

I stared at the room. My shock was still there, but it wasn't as powerfully paralyzing as it had been. No, I wanted to _investigate_ this room; I had the urge to wish for a book on how it worked and start rifling through it so I could learn its secrets.

I turned my gaze to Remus. "You're the Hogwarts expert, Remus; have you ever heard of anything like this?"

A quick shake of the head was my answer.

"Hmm."

I glanced again at the fire, crackling so merrily in the grate, and got an idea. "Well, let's see what this place is capable of then," I announced. I reached into my robes, drew my wand, and cast a spell at the fire with a muttered incantation.

It went out.

Immediately, cold crept into the room.

Remus shivered. "Was that necessary?" he complained. "I wished for the fire for a reason – "

There was a soft clicking sound as he spoke, as if someone had snapped their fingers or tapped a nail against a wall, and a brilliant spark popped into existence and fell among the logs – and with a _boom_, the fire reappeared to rage in the grate, and the cold retreated and warmth began to pervade the room once again.

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm impressed," he admitted.

I pretended to curtsy, smiling, as I slipped my wand away.

He crossed his arms, thinking, excited at my discovery. "So it responds to commands, then. Or wishes. Or perhaps both. . . Maybe . . ."

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
With a glance at Sariah's now bored face, I lapsed into silence, knowing that I'd probably annoy the heck out of her if I kept talking.

But I _had_ to figure out how this thing worked.

There was a succession of popping noises, and I jumped as a stand and a very large book appeared. On the cover, embroidered in the fanciest script I'd ever seen, were the words: "Room of Requirement".

I ran to it excitedly, but just as I'd turned the first page, something hit me.

I whirled around.

Sariah was grinning at me again, her silver eyes alive with amusement, and in his hands was a pillow. Actually, all _around_ her were pillows. Tens, hundreds, thousands of squashy purple pillows that now dominated the length of the room, which was now groaning and creaking as it started stretching and elongating. Around us, the desks and chairs started to vanish as the pillows popped up instead.

"Got you!" she crowed in delight.

"You must have used your wand," I shot back, seizing a pillow for myself.

Her answer was a pillow aimed straight for my face.

And it would have hit me too, had I not dodged at the last minute. Instead, it slammed into the stand and the book, which toppled over.

I winced, waiting for the crash . . . which never came.

The second the stand touched the floor, the floor rippled and the stand melted into it as though the floor had turned into quicksand. A second later, more pillows had covered the spot, and the floor seemed as solid as ever, but I still scowled.

"Come on! I wanted to read that."

Sariah laughed. "All you ever _do_ is read, Remus. When's the last time you ever, you know, just mucked around? _Without_ the Marauders," she added sternly.

I bit my lip and rolled my gaze skyward, thinking. It, unfortunately, was a legitimate question and –

A pillow slammed into my face, and, surprised, I toppled over and landed rather ingloriously on my butt in the one patch of the hard floor that _didn't_ have pillows. Pain shot up my spine at the same time that embarrassment flooded my face.

"Who said I needed a wand again?" Sariah demanded.

A grin spread across my face. Now _this_ might actually be fun.

"Hah!"

I hurled my pillow at her with all the strength I could muster, and she darted away with a yelp.

"Hey! No injuries!" she scolded.

"_You_ chose pillows!"

"Only because – ouch! – I thought it would – hey! – give no injuries!"

"It doesn't!"

"Oh yeah?"

"_Ow!_ Since when was that a legal move?"

"Since we started – hey! – battling with squashy purple pillows. D – ouch!"

We spent at least the next ten minutes chasing each other around the chamber, dodging purple missiles and returning fire with our own. Sometimes, though, we'd have to stop to regain our breath because we'd simply just be laughing too hard, and we'd fall down and laugh and try to remember how to breathe before the other did. We'd even started building forts out of the pillows between rounds of bombardment by the time I remembered . . .

"It's dinner time soon, isn't it?"

Sariah paused mid-through and glanced at the wall. A circle of it darkened and started bubbling and hissing like a foul potion, and then a watch slid out of the hissing hole-turned-tunnel, dark gold and fully functional. She clicked it open.

"Yeah," she said, surprised.

I stood. "Truce?"

She nodded and stood, and as we did, with another slow hiss the pillows started sinking into the floor and vanishing.

Neither of us paid attention. Whatever this place was – "Room of Requirement" or not – we were by now used the strangeness of our wishes popping up when we wanted them and fading when we were done.

Sariah took one step towards me – and the froze. "Um . . . where's the door?" she asked.

I whirled.

_Oh, come on._

The door that James had shoved me through, the door that Sirius had shoved her through, the door that no matter what I hadn't been able to make budge – it was gone. The section of the wall where it _should_ have been was the same red-orange-yellow color as the other walls, and there was no handle in sight, even though I clearly remembered one.

"This is weird," I muttered.

Sariah turned to me sharply. "No, Remus. What was weird was the fact that James and Sirius just _happened_ to upset Filch and just _happened_ to be chased up to the same room and just _happened_ to shove the both of us in the same room."

I turned to her, one eyebrow raised. She wasn't a Marauder, but I knew her well enough now to know trouble when I heard it.

"Let it pass, or get revenge?" I asked simply, even though I already knew the answer.

"Revenge," we said together.

The wall rippled, and sure enough, seconds later there was a door.

Moments later found us chasing after James and Sirius, who had been lounging in the corridor playing wizard chess with the Invisibility Cloak in a heap besides them, screaming for revenge at the top of our voices and using our wands to ensure they got the message. Needless to say, all four of us served double detention for three days afterward.


	6. Chapter 6

Well, today was a snow day, but it's still the midterms, and I didn't want to randomly not post, so I guess I'll call this the Snow Day Special. Cheesy, I know. But, hey, I couldn't think of anything else. So . . . yeah! Read on!

* * *

**_Chapter Six_**

**Third Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Albus Dumbledore_ ~  
I frowned thoughtfully down at the letter that was spread neatly across my desk. The penmanship was mostly neat, but also slightly slanted, as though written not in a hurry, but in fear. The letter was short, barely covering half of the white sheet. And instead of one signature, there were two.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_ We are aware that you, as the Headmaster of Hogwarts School, have a great deal on your mind and are very sorry to trouble you thusly. However, we believe that you need to know._

_ As you probably know, the werewolf Fenrir Greyback has been beginning to make several threats toward our family, each more violent than the last. We have refused each time to join him, and, by extension, You-Know-Who. We usually would have no reason to trouble you over such a trivial thing, but this latest threat is something new._

_ Greyback has threatened retaliation against our daughter, Sariah, and any of her friends. _

_ Sariah is, of course, safe from Greyback in Hogwarts. However, we request that Sariah remain at Hogwarts during both the winter and Easter holidays. We have given permission for her to visit Hogsmeade, but we ask that, should you learn or judge that the werewolves or Death Eaters are getting too close, you will revoke her privilege. _

_Sincerely,_

_Polaris Alycone_

_Maria Alycone_

Pushing aside their letter, I reached for some parchment.

What worried me was not that Greyback had threatened the Alycones – he had threatened the Lupins and countless other families before them – but that he had resorted to threatening their daughter specifically.

After all, the last time Greyback had made such a threat, poor Remus Lupin had been attacked and bitten.

Taking the quill, I began to write, "_Polaris, Maria, . . ._"

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I swallowed nervously as I walked up the staircase to the headmaster's study.

Professor McGonagall had called me out of the library where I had been waiting for Remus. Remus and I both took Ancient Runes, and we had found that working together made the translations easier to finish.

I had stayed late, but Remus had never shown up – the first time he missed coming. Remus hadn't gone to class either, but the teacher had said that he was sick. We had agreed that what one person missed the other would cover – and since Remus was gone, I was taking the latter. Usually, even if we skipped class, we would show up later in our now routine meetings.

It worried me that Remus had not.

But right now, I was more worried about this than that. Remus could fend for himself. But I had no idea what Professor Dumbledore wanted.

I knocked on the door, and pushed it open when I heard the calm voice say, "Enter."

Professor Dumbledore was seated at his desk, laying down a quill even as I walked in. His serene blue eyes studied me silently.

"You called for me, Professor?" I said timidly.

"Yes, I did. Please, sit, my dear."

When I had seated myself in the chair before his desk, he said, "I called you here because your parents wrote me a letter recently, and I think that you are old enough to understand the implications of it."

"Of what, sir?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his large chair. "Do you know of a werewolf called Fenrir Greyback?" he asked lightly, almost casually. If not for the hard, set look in his bright blue eyes, I would have thought his tone indicated neutrality towards this 'Greyback'.

"Um . . ."

I racked my brains for any mention of anyone called Fenrir or Greyback, from any class. _Uh, maybe _now_ would be a good reason to pay attention in History of Magic_. "Sorry, no."

"I thought not." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling now. "I can see that you were considering paying more attention to Professor Binns."

I blushed, lowering my eyes. I was surprised that he had managed to divine my thoughts so easily. _Am I that transparent?_

"But I didn't expect you to know who Fenrir Greyback was, so please do not worry yourself," Dumbledore continued. "In fact, I myself know very little about him, save what I have learned in recent months – or, in this case, recent days."

_That_ caught my interest.

Dumbledore, the greatest wizard alive, knew 'very little' about this Greyback guy? _And recent days – does he mean to tell me that someone's been hurt by this Greyback person or something?_ Fear struck my heart. _Someone in my family?_

"Calm yourself, my dear." Dumbledore's commanding voice stopped me from continuing to frantically draw up lists of everyone in my family. "No, Greyback has _not_ harmed anyone you love – "

I let out a sigh of relief . . .

" – yet."

. . . much too soon.

I eyed Dumbledore worriedly. I guessed that of all the people to joke about dark wizards, Dumbledore would be pretty low on the list.

That did not help my worries.

"You see, my dear, Fenrir Greyback is a very dangerous sort of person. For one thing, he is a werewolf, and – "

"How does that make him dangerous?" I interrupted, frowning. "Werewolves can choose to be bad and good just like the rest of us."

I mean, I didn't know any werewolves personally, so I really couldn't say, but what was the point in making biased statements? _I_ faced prejudice for being a half-blood and Lily faced prejudice for being a Muggle-born – why add to the mix? And I doubted that most werewolves _begged_ their attackers to bite them anymore than most Muggle-borns wanted to be born such.

Dumbledore's face relaxed somewhat at my statement. "I can see that you have an open mind, Sariah. A good thing to have."

"Um . . . thank you?"

"Now, where was I? Ah, yes. In any case, Greyback is a dangerous opponent, and being a werewolf means that he has the opportunity to become stronger and faster during certain times. He and his fellows use this to their advantage when hunting down foes – or, in some cases, prey. And I am afraid that Greyback has expressed an interest in your family."

I stared at Dumbledore as the implications of his speech whirled through my brain. My family, a target for a powerful, dangerous, out-of-control werewolf working with the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who? _What a lovely Easter vacation present._

"I see that you have grasped the consequences of this. Therefore, I hope you understand when I say that returning home right now would be a rather unwise decision on your part."

I bowed my head. I had been looking forward to seeing my mom and dad again. But they would want to make sure I was safe, I knew. They would put my safety first, as they always had.

"I understand, sir," I said softly.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I walked wearily down the hall, too tired to notice much of what was passing me. As this was my third year at Hogwarts, I pretty much knew my way around, so I let my feet direct me.

My transformation this time had been particularly tiring, as I hadn't gotten much sleep the days before.

The pressure was mounting on me to conceal my true condition. It was, after all, my third year, and people were beginning to notice a pattern in my disappearances. I hoped rather than believed that my excuse of my mother's illness would hold against my inquisitive classmates.

Shoving such dismal thoughts out of my head, I quickened my pace. Having one of my classmates catch me wandering around after hours would probably prompt some questions, too, actually . . . although usually I did come back late to the Tower after going over Ancient Runes with Sariah. . .

That thought halted me in my tracks.

_ Sariah!_

She thought I was sick – so she would expect me to turn up later. And I hadn't, obviously. I groaned.

_Wonderful_, I thought grumpily. _I'm losing my mind here. First I forget to check the calendar and nearly not go to Madam Pomfrey, and now I forget to warn Sariah_ –

"Remus? Remus, is that you?"

The soft, curious voice made me whirl around in shock. Then my jaw dropped at the same time that my mind was clamoring for me to groan. _I can't believe this!_

Sariah was hurrying towards me, her long back hair swaying behind her and her silver eyes focused on me. She was carrying books in her arms that I knew to be for Ancient Runes, and her expression conveyed her similar feelings of shock.

"Remus," she breathed, finally catching up to me. "Remus, where were you? I waited for hours for you, and then McGonagall called me out and – "

"McGonagall?" I interrupted, my heart sinking. Had McGonagall or Dumbledore decided to tell Sariah the real reason I wasn't there? Sariah didn't seem to be prejudiced against werewolves, but still . . . I didn't want to risk losing her friendship.

"Yeah," Sariah confirmed. She looked down, suddenly seeming embarrassed. "Family matter to discuss with Dumbledore. Not too exciting."

I eyed her, my fear fading. _Family matters?_ Dumbledore might be an energetic headmaster, but he usually didn't speak to students one-on-one often, and especially about family matters. What was more, the discussion didn't seem like a minor issue. Sariah seemed troubled, I realized.

"What's wrong?" I asked gently.

Sariah stiffened slightly. "It was nothing, Remus," she said, her tone warning me to drop the conversation. Obviously the matter was sensitive.

I raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't sound like nothing, Sariah."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Can you promise to keep this a secret, Remus? I – I don't want everyone to know."

"Of course." I had my own secrets, and I kept them. And it seemed like it would help for Sariah to talk about whatever was bothering her.

"Even from Potter and Black?"

I eyed Sariah in growing concern. She knew I was best friends with them. What was so serious that she would ask me to hide it from literally _everyone_?

"Yes."

Sariah took a deep breath, turning around to face me. "It's Fenrir Greyback. He's threatened to retaliate against my family if we don't help." She hesitated for a moment, before continuing. "More specifically, he threatened to bite me and make me an outcast."

My first reaction was an overpowering anger. Greyback, turn this innocent, sweet, friendly girl into an outcast? Greyback, hunt her down and torture her? Greyback, _bite her and turn her into a werewolf_?

_No!_ I wanted to shout my reaction, to show my anger. I knew what it was like to be a werewolf, knew what it was like to suffer being bitten, knew what it was like to feel the agony of being shunned by society.

No. Sariah should never – _would_ never suffer such an outrage.

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I saw disgust appear in Remus's light blue eyes, and stepped backward. Of all people, I had come to seen Remus as among the most compassionate people I knew. _It appears I was mistaken._ Well, it was too late to take back my mistake.

"I'm sorry. If you – If you don't want to – to be around me anymore, I'll – I'll understand." I could hear my voice crack, and knew that my tears were showing, but I couldn't stop it. It would hurt to lose Remus's friendship. Turning away, I started to walk away, trying to hide my severely damaged dignity.

"What?" I heard Remus exclaim. I felt his hand close on my arm, yanking me around to face him. "No, Sariah – Sariah, listen: I don't care. My disgust is for Greyback alone."

"You really don't care?" I whispered, almost afraid to look into those blue eyes.

I saw Remus give one of his rare smiles – the kind that made his eyes lit up and almost managed to conceal the scars cutting across his cheeks. "Why would I?" he asked simply.

I felt as though a huge burden had been lifted off my shoulders. "Thanks, Remus." I glanced over at him. "By the way, you never answer my question."

"Um . . . Which one?"

"Why didn't you show up?"

"Oh." Remus seemed uncomfortable now – I couldn't see his light blue eyes and his posture was tense. "Well – my mother's ill, and I visit her every month. I mean, I'm her only kid, and so it seems – "

"I understand. I'd want to visit my mom if she was sick," I said, interrupting his speech. His was a family matter too – much too personal, I thought, to be discussing in the hallway. "So, you covering tomorrow or me?"

"You," Remus said with a sigh, his body relaxing. "I have to catch up on all my homework."

I grinned at his forlorn expression. "I'll help, Remus."

I received a wary look in return. "Is that a threat or a promise?" he asked suspiciously, his blue eyes narrowing.

"Um . . . Consider it a mix of both."

Remus groaned.


	7. Chapter 7

Day 3 of my Midterm Marathon! Time for a rather unexpected and unwelcome surprise for Remus. . .

* * *

**_Chapter Seven_**

**Third Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I sighed in frustration and crossed out my latest failure. Leaning back, I covered my face with my hands.

"Stupid translation," I muttered.

Today was the day for our trips into Hogsmeade. And it was also the day that our Ancient Runes teacher had chosen to assign us a huge translation.

Dropping my hands, I glanced around. Remus was gone, off looking for some book. I started to pull Remus's sheet towards me. Maybe he had had better luck than I.

A hand landed on the sheet, precisely where Remus's answer was neatly written. Sighing, I looked up into the scolding expression of Remus Lupin.

"No cheating, Sariah," he said in a scolding tone, but his blue eyes were twinkling with amusement. Sitting down, he playfully shoved my hand off his paper and proceeded to start rolling up his parchment.

"Oh, give me a break, Remus," I pleaded. "It's just this last one."

Remus gave me a superior look, as though considering it in his mind. I smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

"Remus!"

Remus laughed, surrendering – it looked like my smack hadn't even made him wince.

"Okay, okay, you win. Hurry up," he added, standing as I copied down his answer, "I don't wanna miss going to Hogsmeade."

I shoved his paper back at him. "Honestly, Remus, you can deal with being a few minutes late," I said, cramming my papers and books back into my bag. "Who would have thought that the tolerant, smart, compassionate Marauder was actually the most impatient out of all of them?"

Remus scowled at me, and I grinned. It was so nice to get a rise out of Remus, the normally quietest member of the foursome. And of all the Marauders, Remus was the only one to have secured my good opinion – and the only one I was on first name terms.

We joined the main flow in the corridors and headed back to the common room. We both wanted to drop off our book bags before venturing out to Hogsmeade. Remus wanted to hurry, though, because Potter, Black, and Pettigrew all had left some time before. Lily and my friends had left too.

As I made to climb up the stairs after Remus, a voice shouted, "Hey! Alcyone!"

I turned around, and glimpsed a tall fellow fourth year make his way through the crowd towards me. As he drew nearer, I felt Remus step back to my side. I knew why. This fourth year's robes were decorated with the Slytherin crest.

Gryffindors and Slytherins never really got along.

"Alycone, Dayn's waiting for you at the Three Broomsticks." The Slytherin eyed Remus, his sneering eyes taking in Remus's loose and patched robes. "I'd met him without your . . . acquaintance here."

"He's my friend," I countered sharply, rising to Remus's defense at once. "He will make his own choices, and I will _respect_ them."

The Slytherin shrugged. "Your decision." Then he turned around and disappeared back in the crowd.

I sighed, and turned back to the staircase.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
"Who's Dayn – what's his name?" I asked Sariah abruptly as we made our way into Hogsmeade. Sariah's immediate defending of me had made my spirits rise, but the thought of a Slytherin talking so familiarly to Sariah made me . . . uncomfortable.

"Dayn Maran," Sariah supplied. "He – uh – He wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this time. Said to meet him at the Three Broomsticks."

_'Wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me.'_

Sariah's words made my insides go cold. Her wording was complete innocent, and had no implications – if we were not fourth years and if Sariah was not an extremely popular and attractive girl.

But we were fourth years, and just like Lily Evans, Sariah was the object of many boys' daydreams. Who wouldn't dream about her? Sariah was kind, gentle, caring, and beautiful. On top of that, her father had inherited a rather large amount of money – money that Sariah would then inherit in turn. She was rich, beautiful, and connected. All the things most boys looked for. Even if she was a half-blood.

"He wants to date you," I stated. No, I wasn't liking the way this was going at all.

Sariah winced. "Remus, please don't say it like that," she said, half-pleading, half-telling. "I couldn't find a polite way to refuse him, and – oh, Remus, don't be angry about this. I can't stand it when anger is between us."

_There hasn't _been_ much anger between us_, I thought. Sariah and I were very alike; rarely did we see differently on most things.

I sighed, relenting. Sariah was right, after all – it was very hard on both of us whenever we had an unresolved argument sitting in place of our friendship. "Sorry, Sariah. I just – I don't know. Do you think it's safe, dating a Slytherin?"

Sariah raised an eyebrow. "Should you really ask that question, Remus?"  
"Um, _yes_. This is a _Slytherin_ we're talking about, Sariah!"

"And how do you think _he_ feels about _me_ talking to a Gryffindor?"

"I'm your classmate!" I retorted heatedly.

"You're also a Marauder," Sariah said dryly. "On top of being a Gryffindor and holding a thousand generations of prejudice between you."

I opened my mouth to respond before closing it. I really couldn't argue with that. Sariah had a very valid point, even though I highly disliked it.

Sariah saw my reaction. I felt her tentatively grasp my hand. "Remus, I think we've had enough of philosophical discussions," she said softly. "I'll meet you for a drink later, okay?"

"Alone," she added sharply, as I glanced meaningfully at her.

I couldn't concentrate for the rest of the trip. When I entered the Three Broomsticks later with James and Sirius and Peter, the first thing that drew my eyes was that sight – Sariah and Maran, sitting down and chatting quietly in the corner.

Maran was leaning back, his chair tilted slightly off the floor and an arrogant expression on his face. But Sariah seemed fine despite this – I could see her smile even from over here, and her eyes were clear of annoyance or any other negative feeling.

An odd feeling was building in my guts. It wasn't nervousness, like it usually was. Nor was it anger. _Oh, no_, I thought. _I better not be feeling – _

" – Moony!"

A hand sailed across my face inches from my nose, causing me to start. Some of my butterbeer slopped on the table as I started and returned my attention to the others. The others, who, I noticed uncomfortably, were smirking at me.

"Zoned out, Moony?" Sirius asked briskly.

I started to nod.

"Or distracted by a pretty girl?" James continued, grinning.

My nod and my forced smile vanished. I scowled at my drink. Couldn't they cut me at least a little slack where Sariah was concerned? We were close friends, nothing more.

Sirius and James laughed heartily at my expression, furthering my displeasure.

"She's a good looking girl," James commented, drinking some of his own butterbeer. "Pretty, quiet, and bookish."

"Perfect match for you, Moony!" Sirius chimed in.

"Give me a break, will you?" I asked sullenly. Their teasing was not helping my bad mood at the moment.

"Oooh," James and Sirius said as one, their grins getting bigger.

"_Someone's_ a little touchy on the subject, aren't ya, Moony?" James said pointedly.

"Bit protective of her too, right?" Sirius added.

I glared at them. They were my best friends, but, honestly, sometimes. . . "Padfoot, Prongs – cut me some slack, will you? Today is not the best day for it."

"Yeah, you're right," Sirius agreed.

I started to relax.

"Yeah – tomorrow will be better," James finished with an evil grin.

With an unhappy grunt and a backwards glare at my smirking friends, I drained the rest of my butterbeer and stomped away from the table.


	8. Chapter 8

Day 4 of my Midterm Marathon! A rather nasty plot is born – can you guess who the mastermind is?

* * *

**_Chapter Eight_**

**Fourth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
"You're coming with me, not him! Lupin's too dangerous!"

The sound of my name made halted me in my tracks. Frowning, I doubled back a few footsteps. The furious argument seemed to be coming from . . . here. But who would be arguing about me so loudly?

To my relief, nobody involved seemed to hear me, and the argument continued.

"And you're not, Dayn? After what your _friends_ did the other day, I would think that nothing else except You-Know-Who would be more dangerous!"

"Alcyone, Lupin disappears once a month – _at every full moon_! Do I have to spell it out for you?"

My heat seemed to stop beating. _Dayn. Alycone._ I knew what those names meant – Sariah was arguing with her boyfriend, Dayn Maran. And worse yet, they were arguing about _me_ and my . . . condition.

_"disappears once a month . . . every full moon . . ."_

Maran's words made fear flare up inside of me. The words were dangerous close to the real nature of my condition – my lycanthropy. As far as I knew, only three other students knew for sure about it – James, Sirius, and Peter. My excuses were being worn down more and more each year by my curious peers, and it was getting harder and harder to conceal such things.

Thus I was beyond grateful that Sariah refused to indulge in such gossip. More than once she had defended me against interrogations, her sharp tongue and flashing eyes more than enough to dissuade even the most determined. Ever since our conversation last year when she had confided in me about Greyback's threat to her family, she had accepted my excuse of my mother's illness without question, and continued to support me. Whenever I returned from my full moon transformations, weary and ill, she was waiting, ready to assist in homework problems no matter what.

I soon realized that I was the only person she was willing to bend her personal morals for, because I had been around her long enough to know that for me alone would she consent to let me cheat on assignments by copying her research, notes, and even essays sometimes.

"So what?" Sariah's voice was the coldest I'd ever heard it. "_So what, Dayn?_ Do you think he can control when his mother is ill?"

Maran gave a bitter laugh. "_That's_ the excuse he's flaunting? What rubbish. _He's_ the one ill."

"Enough, Maran!"

I winced at Sariah's voice. It reminded me strongly of Professor Dumbledore's voice when he shouted for quiet in the Great Hall when we got rowdy. I had never heard her say anything to me in that tone of voice, and I hoped I would never hear it. Even when I had played some rather nasty pranks of Sariah and Lily, she had never spoken to me this way.

I guessed that Sariah had finally lost her temper, for she continued in a louder voice and this time addressed her boyfriend as an enemy – she called him by his surname.

"I don't care if your theory is right or wrong, Maran, but this is the end of this discussion! Remus Lupin is my friend, and he will remain so! _You_ may not. Good day."

Shaken, I hurried off to breakfast.

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I stormed out the classroom muttering curses under my breath, annoyed as I'd never been before. Dayn stood behind me, his expression shocked. In all the months he'd dated me, I had never raised my voice at him. But the again, in all of those months, never before had he insulted Remus as he'd just done.

And if there was one thing that set me off, it was when somebody insulted one of my friends.

I had accepted that Remus was different when we had become friends, and I had never pressed him about it. I knew he was concealing something from me, but then again, I had concealed a great deal from him too, hadn't I? For one minor thing, none of Marauders except Sirius knew that my father was technically Sirius's cousin.

I stepped out onto the grounds and sighed in relief as I felt cool air rush against me, taking away some of the heat of my anger. _I guess I shouldn't have snapped at Dayn like that_, I thought ruefully, seating myself at the foot of one of the grounds' many trees. True, he had pushed me – but I was old enough to have more control over my emotions. . .

"Skipping breakfast?"

The soft, slightly hoarse voice made me jump just as the owner of the voice sat down next to me. Remus's light brown hair seemed darker under the clouds, which kept forming and then dispersing as though unable to make up their mind as to whether they should pour buckets on us or not. But his light blue eyes remained unchanged; they twinkled warmly at me as they always had.

Remus held out his right hand, and I saw that he was clutching some toast in it. With a murmured thanks, I took a piece and started eating. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until now. Remus ate more slowly, his eyes flickering almost nervously between the clouds and me.

Despite myself, I smiled. "Remus, are you scared of the rain?" I teased lightly, leaning against the tree to get a better look at my friend's face.

True to his character, Remus straightened indignantly. "I am not!" he exclaimed, eyeing me in disapproval. "I bring breakfast, and you bring disparaging comments? Not a fair match at all, is it?"

I rolled my eyes. "You forgot to mention that you also bring an infamy that leads back to first year and all the pranks since then," I said dryly. "I think it's fair, Remus."

Remus settled down again with superior huff, but he couldn't hide the smile in his eyes. He couldn't refute _that_ claim, in any case – the escapades of the four Marauders were well known by now, and Remus, even if he was the voice of reason for the Marauders, was still one of them.

Speaking of which, where were the rest of the Marauders? Turning to look at Remus, I voiced my question curiously.

Remus shrugged, finishing his toast. "Off already," he answered easily.

"Oh."

Today was the last Hogsmeade visit of the year, and many of the students were seizing the opportunity to escape Hogwarts and lose themselves in the many entertainments of Hogsmeade after all of the grueling tests we had endured.

"And you aren't going?"

Remus raised an eyebrow at me. "No, I'm sitting next to a girl talking about it," he said sarcastically.

I laughed, standing up. "Okay, okay, I get the point, Remus. Let's go."

~ _Dayn Maran_ ~  
I could barely hold back a growl when I saw Sariah enter the shop. I nearly growled because it was then that I saw that she wasn't alone.

Lupin, that insufferable Gryffindor, was with her.

Lupin, that Gryffindor that bore unexplained scars and disappeared once a month.

Lupin, that ridiculous _boy_ who I was certain was a werewolf.

_Stay away from her, _half-breed_._

That was the thought that ran through my head when I saw Lupin crane his neck over her shoulder to look at something she was showing him, one of his hands resting lightly on her back.

_They're too close to each other._

Werewolves were half-breeds, and I had no respect for them. I regarded them with the same level of disgust as I regarded Mudbloods. They were filthy creatures who didn't deserve to hold a wand.

The last thought echoed even more in my mind when I saw Lupin draw his wand and perform a nonverbal spell for Sariah, who laughed and replaced the object she had been holding. She said something cheerfully to him, and he replaced his wand, his expression disgruntled.

I smiled slightly. Maybe she had realized that my theory was correct, and that association with Lupin was dangerous.

But no – I had guessed too soon, for just then Lupin retorted to her earlier comment, and the smile vanished from Sariah's face. I saw her stare at him, her eyes wide before Lupin cracked up, doubling over with laughter.

I realized just then that I had never seen Lupin laugh before.

Sariah wasn't as amused. She smacked Lupin on the shoulder, and he sent her an innocent smile that was far too dazzling for my taste. Sariah rolled her eyes, and Lupin gently slid his arm around her shoulder, gesturing towards the door. Then he led her out of the shop, never removing his arm from her shoulder. Sariah did not object to his closeness; as they left I saw her start talking about a different subject.

I followed them out of the shop, grumbling under my breath.

To my great annoyance, Lupin still held Sariah, and the two were chatting animatedly. Reaching under my cloak, I started to draw out my wand. Lupin was still close enough . . . yes, still close enough . . . for me to hex. . .

A hand landed on my shoulder and jerked me around. With a shout, I spun and trained my wand on my attacker.

My attacker had grey hair and long fingernails. He smelled . . . disgusting, like a mix of sweat and blood. He cackled at my brandished wand. "Planning on cursing Lupin, were you?" he said, sneering.

"For your information, yes," I snapped. "So leave me alone."

"Can't do that, boy," my attacker said in an admonishing tone. "You see, I have a . . . let's just say I have a problem with Lupin too. . . And I don't want to be punishing an already beat-up boy, do I?"

I lowered my wand slightly. "You want revenge on Lupin?"

"Why else would I stop you? I want revenge, you want Lupin hurt. Nothing ever said you had to hurt Lupin yourself, did it?"

"So," I said slowly, "you'll take your revenge on Lupin for me? What do you want in return?"

"What I want," the man rasped, "is for you to lead him into the trap. He won't trust me, will he?"

"No, he won't," I muttered. _I'm still not certain if _I_ trust you._ "Where do you want me to lead him?"

"Tell him to go to Hog's Head, and take the next road as far as it'll go."

"What about Sariah?"

A cunning light entered the man's eyes. "You want revenge because he's stolen your mate, don't you? Well, she's yours, boy. We won't touch a claimed mate."

"_We_?" I asked sharply, ignoring the man's reference to Sariah as my "mate".

He flexed his fingers. "I have some friends who want in too. Can't blame them, can I? Lupin's ruffled quite a few feathers in his time."

I nodded slowly. "All right, it's a deal."

"Good," the man rasped, turning away.

"On one condition," I said sharply, raising my wand once again. The man turned around slowly. "Sariah gets out unharmed. I don't want a single hair on her even _touched_."

The man eyed me for a moment before giving a single nod. Then he raised his wand, and I dimly heard a voice mutter, "_Imperio_."


	9. Chapter 9

Day 5 and so the final day of my Midterm Marathon! And so the plot begins! TBC next week. . .

* * *

**_Chapter Nine_**

**Fourth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
"Sariah! _Sariah_!"

Sariah and I turned around in surprise as a figure came dashing up the street after us. I squinted at the person, and immediately dropped my arm from Sariah's shoulder as I recognized Maran. My eyesight was better than hers, after all; all my senses were heightened in preparation for the full moon.

Sariah gave me a curious look, but it disappeared as Maran came to a stop in front of us.

I knew at once by the small sneer on his face that he had seen me holding Sariah, and stepped ever so slightly forward, ready to interfere if Sariah and Maran started arguing again. Or, at least, ready to hold Sariah back before she punched Maran or hexed him. I hadn't been on the short end of her hexes often, but I had seen the bloody and painful results in the Gryffindor boys' room after every prank where James and Sirius had been foolish enough to get within arm's length of her.

Fortunately, they learned fast.

"Finally found you," Maran said, his breath coming in short gasps. "'Kay, look, Sariah. I'm sorry for yelling, but I've got something really cool to show you. Meet me at the end of the road that starts at the Hog's Head."

"The Hog's Head?" Sariah repeated in a tone of surprise.

But Maran didn't stop or even hesitate to answer her question, dashing off again.

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. It wasn't like Maran to run like that, as though a pack of wolves were chasing him. And it wasn't like him to not throw any verbal jabs at me either while he was at it.

Sariah, however, looked thoughtful.

That made me nervous. This was our fourth year; the rest of the Marauders and I had explored a lot around Hogsmeade, but for some reason we had never quite fully scouted over there. James had said vaguely that he was waiting until later, for some unknown reason that only Sirius and he knew. It's not that it was dangerous. But it _was_ far; that much I knew very well.

And, predictably, Sariah started to go after him.

After I got over my initial shock that she actually knew where it was, I caught her arm as she made to follow Maran.

"Sariah, are you sure about this?" I hissed.

She threw an annoyed look over her shoulder. "Remus, I'm not a baby," she said firmly. "So please don't treat me like one. Like, right about _now_."

"The area he's suggesting you visit is dangerous," I retorted. "It's almost beyond the borders of Hogsmeade, and if we get into trouble, we'd be a very long way from Hogwarts."

"Well, I trust you and your brilliant mind can come up with enough defensive spells, Remus," Sariah said dryly. "Your mind has certainly come in handy when you play pranks on the rest of us and get away with it half the time."

I flushed. _I guess I'm not going to win this battle._ Sariah and I had argued thousands of times by now over various subjects, and the winner varied depending on the disagreement. After two years of this, it had become an unspoken agreement that the loser concede after losing a certain amount of ground to the other.

And I had just lost that ground.

"Fine," I said with a sigh. "But I'm coming with you this time."

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
"Are you all right, Remus?" I asked worriedly.

Remus was currently pacing back and forth, as he had been doing for the last ten minutes that we had been waiting here. I was very surprised that he hadn't plowed a row where he was walking back and forth in the dirt; perhaps he needed sharper shoes. His hands were behind his back and his expression was tense.

"Yes," Remus snapped, turning around sharply.

I stepped back in surprise as I saw his eyes flash in annoyance, for a moment suddenly green-gold in color.

_Wait, _green-gold_ eyes_?

I stared at Remus, my worries increasing tenfold. Remus had blue eyes, not green-gold eyes. What was more, it was rare for Remus to snap at anybody, much less me, like he just had.

Remus seemed to realize that his actions had been out of line, because he stopped pacing and faced me. "Sorry, Sariah, I'm just . . ." His voice trailed off when he noticed me staring at him, and he asked self-consciously, "Is there something wrong with me?"

I shook my head silently, not sure if Remus's eyes really had turned green-gold or if that was just my imagination overreacting.

Remus crossed his arms, one of his eyebrows rising upward. "You're a really bad liar, Sariah," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up momentarily in amusement – and in a very welcome relief from his anger.

"I – I don't know," I said slowly, ignoring the verbal jab that normally would have had me ready to hex him. "But – Remus, did your eyes just turn green-gold?"

Remus's _blue_ eyes widened in surprise at the same time that his arms dropped back to his sides. "You're – You're sure that my eyes turned – turned _green-gold_?" he asked nervously, his face suddenly as pale as I'd ever seen it.

"I was hoping you could tell me that, Remus," I returned softly.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Remus spun around, his wand appearing seemingly out of nowhere in his right hand. I jumped in shock as a man walked slowly into view. I saw Remus immediately take a step backward and to the side so that he was partially shielding me from any spells that might be cast. With a nervous glance at the man, I drew my own wand.

"What do you want?" Remus asked. His voice did not shake or possess any heat, but I still heard an underlying threat in his tone, warning the intruder to keep his distance.

The man ignored the threat, continuing to walk forward. "What I want is no trouble. From either of you," he added, coming to a stop.

I heard a series of _pops_ and other men walked into view one at a time, silently joining the first. None pulled out wands, but I sensed Remus tense anyway. For my part, I quietly cast a Shield Charm. It wouldn't protect us from any serious curses or hexes, but it would give us some warning if the curse punched a hole in the shield first.

Remus took another step backward and raised his wand higher.

"Leave us alone," he said softly, but his voice carried to the group with an unmistakable aura of threatening and warning.

I admired his cool; for my own personal part, I was absolutely terrified inside right now.

The first man grinned. "Hear him? '_Us_'. Have you chosen a mate yet, boy, or she it?"

I saw Remus's eyes flash in anger, growing cooler and darker by the syllable. "She is no one's mate," he spat, his voice suddenly harsh and grating. "It is her choice to make. And it is none of your business."

"Now it is," the first man rasped. "_Stupefy_!"

The jet of light flew towards us, but Remus was faster. "_Protego_!" he shouted, and the spell rebounded at the group, who all scattered out of its way.

"Run!"

Remus seized my hand and we fled from the scene. I cast a glance over my shoulder – the men were following. Then Remus stopped abruptly as three men appeared right in front of us. Before I could do more than gasp in surprise, his arm slid around my waist, jerking me against him as he raised his wand.

Startled and confused, I glanced up at Remus. His eyes were flashing, and to my horror, flashing alternately from blue to green-gold and back again.

The first man stepped forward again. "Release her, boy," he commanded.

The men around him pointed their wands at us – no, not at me. They were pointing them at Remus. They were aiming straight for his face, and I was sure that if I wasn't in the way, they'd aim straight for his heart as well.

_They want me_, I realized.

Then I realized, with sickening anguish, _Oh my god, I brought Remus straight into this trap. Now they'll kill him._

"No." The way Remus said the word scared me – he almost _growled_ the word, as though he wasn't truly human. "Leave her alone." The words cracked and snapped like a whip, harsh and powerful, and I almost expected the men to flinch back.

"Ah." The man sneered. "Too close to the time, isn't it? Already the wolf is rising, isn't he? Wants to claim his mate, doesn't he?"

_What?_

I glanced up at Remus again, but his eyes were trained on this man. His arm was still tight around my waist, making his body a shield for me.

"Well, I'll make this simple for you, boy. You can walk away, or be hexed."

Remus's grip tightened, and this time he actually let loose a feral growl. "My answer is still no," he spat.

Then he shifted ever so slightly, so that his mouth was closer to my ear. "Sariah," he murmured, so quietly I had trouble hearing it. "Sariah, when I act, I want you to run. Run as fast as you can, and get away from here. And bring help, if you can."

"_What_?" I hissed back as quietly as I could, careful not to look at him and give away the game. "I'm not leaving you alone with them, Remus!"

"Yes, you are."

The man took another threatening step, teeth bared in an awful smile, hand raised to point or grab, I knew not –

"Now, Sariah!"

And before I could protest, he shoved me to the side and exclaimed, "_Stupefy_!"

~ _Fenrir Greyback_ ~  
I didn't even flinch as the boy shot a spell straight at me. I knew that the protective enchantments we had cast beforehand were more than enough to protect us against any spells either of the children cast.

What I didn't expect was for the boy to yield his mate.

But his intention became clear when she turned tail and fled, casting only a single glance backwards at the boy.

_Fool_, I thought.

She wouldn't get far. The boy's gesture, while noble, was useless – his mate would be captured one way or another, and I wasn't shy of hurting the boy either. Both would feel extreme agony when we tortured the other.

As soon as the boy's spell faded, one voice shouted, "_Crucio_!" at the same time another exclaimed, "_Expelliarmus_!"

The boy's wand went flying at the same time that he collapsed and raw screams filled the air as the Cruciatus Curse took its toll on the boy.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter Ten**_

**Fourth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
For a single moment, I ceased struggling against the hands that restrained me as I gaped at the scene in front of me. My mind went numb, barely able to comprehend what was happening right now, barely able to register it.

Because Remus was writhing on the ground in obvious pain, his screams filling the air.

"Remus!"

The sight of them tormenting Remus made me struggle all the more now. They had come for _me_; they had demanded me; they had threatened me. They had given Remus a chance to walk away. They had _encouraged_ him to walk away. He had stood by me, like the good friend he always was. And now he was paying the consequence.

Soon I was screaming for them to stop; the sight of them hurting Remus like that was causing me enough anguish that I almost thought someone was torturing me too.

"Stop! Please, just stop!"

Right on key, the curse was lifted.

But Remus remained on the ground, panting and shaking, his eyes shut tightly.

The first man observed him dispassionately. "This curse is very interesting, isn't it, Sariah Alycone? At least, the effects are."

I stared at him. _How does he know my name?_

"Who are you?" I demanded harshly, still trying to get away from the hands holding my arms tight.

But instead of trying to break free and run, now I simply wanted to run to Remus's side.

"My name is Fenrir Greyback," he rasped.

_This_ was the werewolf that had threatened my parents?

Anger flooded my veins as the name clicked with agonizing certainty, blinding me with explosive red power that took my breath away. I felt the strongest urge to pummel the man into a bloody pulp with all I had to muster, whether it be feet, fists, or teeth – never mind the fact that he was older, stronger, and taller, and I really was just a young girl.

"What, threatening my family wasn't enough? You had to torture Remus as well?"

It probably wasn't the wisest thing to do.

But Remus was _hurt_. And it was my fault. So I wasn't in my most logical frame of mind either.

"Oh, that wasn't me," he said dismissively. "I've already caused your mate quite a lot of pain as it is. . ."

I blinked. Remus had never mentioned that he knew Greyback. . .

_Wait._ A memory rose in my mind – Remus's eyes, narrowed in anger, when I had mentioned that Greyback was threatening my family. . . _But what does that have to do with anything? And how?_

"Ah, I see you don't know what I'm talking about," Greyback said smugly.

"Of course I don't!" I spat. "You're sick, that's why, and you deserve to be locked up in Azkaban!"

The tension in the air rose considerably as quiet reigned suddenly, save for Remus's gasps.

Greyback surveyed me coolly, as if I was just a curious housefly he was about to swat in three seconds, once he was done playing with me. My insult seemed to have no effect on him. "Your mate," he said conversationally, taking a step closer, "was foolish enough to try and protect you, but – what's this?"

He sniffed the air curiously.

"He hasn't claimed you yet, has he?" Greyback asked with the air of a man that a revelation is occurring to.

"You're a lunatic," I snarled when I finally understood, and revulsion bubbled in the pits of my stomach. Remus would _never_ lift even a finger against me, much less force himself on me – much less "claim" me.

I never saw the slap coming.

One moment his eyes had hardened – the next, I was flying in the air and slamming into a building as my cheek burned as though someone had kindled a fire there. Gasping in shock, I felt him haul me upwards.

"Don't you ever call me 'lunatic'," he snarled before throwing me down again.

I cried out as my elbows connected with the ground rather sharply when I tried – foolishly in hindsight – to break my fall and intense bolts of pain shot up my arm. The next moment, Greyback's hand came back for another slap, and I had just enough of a mind left to force myself to roll frantically away as far as possible, but not quickly enough. One of his fingers swept across my cheek, and a line of fire suddenly sprouted there.

I screamed.

The pain seemed to never end.

First my elbows were burning as though it had landed in a raging fire, and now my cheek was on fire as though someone had dripped liquid poison onto an open wound. And then, I faintly heard someone say something, and then – then all chaos broke loose.

I felt like the wound on my cheek was bursting open.

I felt like Fiendfyre was consuming me, slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly.

I felt like each muscle, each nerve, each tissue in my body was being torn apart.

And then . . . blackness.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I was roused from my own trance when I heard a scream, a raw, piercing scream that tore at my heart.

Jerking upright, I saw Sariah on the ground. An open, bleeding scratch now disfigured her left cheek, and Greyback stood over her, leering.

Then someone said, "_Crucio_!"

It was then that I realized that the earlier scream was nothing, absolutely _nothing_, to Sariah's screams now. Sariah sounded as though someone had just thrown her in a burning furnace whilst slowly tearing all of her bones apart and letting an entire tank of piranhas rip her to pieces and devour her flesh.

Greyback eyed her dispassionately. "You didn't claim her, boy. So now she's mine." With that, he began to kneel down.

His words ignited a raging angry fire inside my chest.

"_Get away from her_!" I shouted, leaping to my feet.

It didn't matter that I had no wand while his fellows were all armed and skilled in nonverbal magic, it didn't matter that Greyback was fully grown and used to fighting while I was still filling out and had never even wrestled in my entire life, it didn't matter that I, a boy of fourteen years, was outnumbered twenty-to-one or more by men over twice my age with twice my experience – Sariah was in pain, and I _had_ to _do_ something.

Something snapped within me.

And then Greyback went flying as though something had hooked into his clothes and yanked him backwards.

Without pausing to even wonder at what had happened, I ran to Sariah's side, and to my horror, noticed her eyes were closed and her breathing erratic.

"How dare you?" Greyback roared.

But just then, suddenly, people were appearing on every side with shallow _pops_ that made my ears hurt from the rapidness of them. Cries of "_Stupefy_!" and "_Protego_!" and numerous other words filled the square as people ran forward, fell back, and cast spells of green, red, and blue lights that flew over my head. Only a half minute later, and the werewolves had scattered and vanished, outnumbered by the immense number of witches and wizards coming to our defense.

I didn't even look up. My heart pounded in fear for Sariah, who I knew was now unconscious. Gently, I slid my arms underneath her and cradled her against my chest.

"Mr. Lupin!"

Professor McGonagall was suddenly beside me, and in another second her hand had closed over mine.

I gasped as suddenly the air around me seemed to be deprived of oxygen, and I tightened my hold on Sariah as I felt like we were being shoved through a thick rubber tube. When the sensation stopped, I couldn't stop myself from stumbling slightly.

"Come on, quickly, Mr. Lupin," McGonagall urged me, her wand held aloft.

Her words made me look up, and I suddenly realized that we were now standing in front of the gates of Hogwarts.

_We just Apparated, didn't we?_

But one glance down at the unconscious girl in my arms made me shove everything else out of my head, and within seconds I was running to the hospital wing.

~ _Albus Dumbledore_ ~  
When I received the letter from the Ministry, all I could feel was shock. The letter told me, in the simplest of terms, that the parents of one of my students had been found dead. More importantly, when the Ministry team had arrived to determine _why_ they had died, they had been shocked to find that the parents had been killed not by the Killing Curse, but by werewolves. The letter said that the team had actually had to resort to identifying the discarded wands by the bodies to determine for sure that the bodies did belong to the student's parents.

There was only one question that rose in my mind after the shock faded – _How am I going to break the news to her?_

She had suffered so much already, and now I tasked with informing her that her parents were dead and that she had move in with her godparents, whom – to the best of my knowledge – she didn't even know existed.

I looked up as frantic knocks sounded on my door.

"Come in," I called, rising.

My question died on my lips when Minerva entered. She looked distinctly disheveled, as if she'd just been dueling, and her eyes were wide with urgency, distress, and alarm – rare emotions for her to show on her face, especially as she had been so many years a teacher of Hogwarts.

"Albus, come quickly," she said without ado. "We have just retrieved Mr. Lupin and Miss Alycone from Hosgmeade."

I frowned. I knew that Sariah had gone to Hogsmeade; I had, in fact, recently told her that it was all right for her to go there. Greyback's threats had faded, and both her parents and I were comfortable with sending her and allowing her to visit Hogsmeade. And Remus was a very good friend of Sariah; the news that they had gone together did not trouble me.

"What necessitated the retrieving, Minerva?" I asked, joining her in the front of my desk.

Minerva's eyes widened even more. "You didn't hear, Albus? The two were in Hogsmeade when they were – they were attacked, Albus. I just returned them to the hospital wing."

My mind spun with the implications, and suddenly I could clearly see the stragety I should have known the instant I saw it. Greyback's threats decreasing had been a way to get us to lower our guard – and then they had attacked, striking simultaneously at both Sariah and her parents.

_You are not invincible, old man!_ Voldemort had told me once when we had crossed wands in a duel.

Apparently, unfortunately, regrettably, it was still undeniably true.

"Albus? Albus, did you not hear me?"

"Minerva," I said, fighting to get the word past my suddenly dry throat. "I want you to read this."

I handed her the letter, and watched her face drain of color as the letter's blatant news sunk in.

"How are you going to tell her, Albus?" Minerva whispered. "How are you going to tell her that – that her parents are dead?"

I turned away. "I haven't the slightest idea, Minerva."


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter Eleven_**

**Fourth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
Slowly, the darkness began to retreat.

I felt myself return to consciousness, and braced myself for the sounds of combat and the feel of the hard ground beneath me. And for the pain – the overwhelming pain that had consumed my body and mind and made the darkness a welcome alternate that I had embraced with hardly a second thought or hesitation.

But no. . .

I felt a soft bed beneath me, and there was a gentle silence around me, broken only by the occasionally twitter of a bird.

_What?_

For a moment I just lay there, struggling to comprehend everything. Was I a captive? _But no; I'm not tied up and a captive would be._ Was I in Hogsmeade? _But no; there're no beds but in the inns and I don't think this is an inn._

Then I gave up and opened my eyes.

The first thing I saw was that I was in the hospital wing – that explained mostly everything. Madam Pomfrey always tried to ensure that the hospital wing was quiet, and there wasn't anybody else here at the moment anyway.

But as I turned my head, I saw that my assumption was wrong – someone else _was_ here: Remus. He was sitting next to the window, his head resting on his hands. I could tell that he was deep in thought about something, and the slight frown on his face told me that his thoughts weren't heading down a happy avenue right now.

As I turned my head away, the light from the window suddenly highlighted a scar on Remus's cheek.

I stared at it for a moment, confused as to why I felt confused. Then I realized why – my scar looked about the same.

But Greyback hadn't scratched Remus.

My conversation with Dayn came flooding back. _"disappears once a month . . ."_ Yes, Remus did disappear, and usually it was once a month. _"always on the full moon . . ."_ Now that I looked back on it, in my third year I had finally noticed that his disappearances were staged around the full moon. Even his scar – I had read somewhere, for a D.A.D.A. homework assignment, that when werewolves were deprived on other creatures to bite, they attacked themselves out of frustration. And werewolf scars were almost impossible to heal, too.

_That would explain why the Shrieking Shack sounds like it's haunted_, I realized suddenly. _Remus must go there every full moon to transform; no one would bother a haunted shack._

I closed my eyes again.

So Dayn _had_ been right – Remus was a werewolf. I couldn't deny it any longer – everything about him screamed "werewolf".

And it would explain Greyback's comment about a "wolf rising already" and how Greyback "had already tortured Remus enough" – if he had bitten Remus and caused the monthly transformations, that would definitely be considered causing Remus a great deal of pain already.

But now that I had come to this conclusion, another thought popped into my head with astonishing clarity – _It doesn't matter that Remus is a werewolf._

And to my surprise, I realized that I meant it.

Remus was werewolf, yes, but that hadn't stopped him from defending me against Greyback even though Greyback had offered him a chance to walk away. And I knew that Remus had been just as scared of Greyback, if not even more than me, because he had already been attacked and surely knew the pain Greyback could inflict.

Resolving not to reveal to Remus that I knew his secret – which would only cause Remus to feel uncomfortable – I opened my eyes again. This time, Remus was facing me, his blue eyes filled with concern.

"Hello, Remus," I said softly.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I stared broodingly out the window, not at all happy with this sharp turn of events. _I should have run faster, or taken her back to Hogwarts, or – or done _something_ different!_ That was the only line of thought drifting through my head right now, and it wouldn't leave my head. I knew that Sariah would berate me sharply if she heard me say this, but I couldn't help myself.

With a sigh, I turned to look at Sariah's still form. She was still sleeping; Madam Pomfrey had said that her mind was still trying to protect itself and she would come around when she was ready. But all of her wounds had been treated, at least.

I still wasn't sure how I was going to explain anything when she woke up.

After all, Greyback had nearly told her out right that I was a werewolf, and my flashing green-gold eyes had also been a dead giveaway. With the full moon only one day away, it was becoming harder to conceal my wolfish traits.

All of my thoughts went away when I noticed Sariah's eyes opening. She smiled ever so slightly, saying, "Hello, Remus."

Giving a small smile in return, I moved to sit beside her as she raised herself to a sitting position. Her elbow was still bandaged, but she looked much better, albeit a little pale. Her silver eyes lingered on me.

_She's probably checking for injuries_, I thought.

"What happened after I blacked out?" she asked lightly, her eyes betraying her burning curiosity.

I leaned against the headboard. "Well, McGonagall Apparated with some other people, and the men went away after the curses started flying," I started. "I grabbed you, and McGonagall grabbed me and Apparated us to Hogwarts."

"You can't Apparate within Hogwarts, Remus," Sariah reminded me.

I rolled my eyes. Of all times to remind me of these things, she had to choose _now_?

"Fine, she Apparated us to Hogwarts' gates," I grumbled. "Happy?"

I was rewarded – and slightly annoyed – by her response of gentle laughter. Ignoring it and plowing on, I continued, "And we came here, and Pomfrey checked me and you while McGonagall ran for Dumbledore."

"What curse we they using on us, to make us scream like that?" Sariah asked.

I bit my lip, unsure as to whether I should reveal to her what I had guessed. But Sariah should know, and it wasn't like it would hurt her to know.

"I'm not certain, but I'm guessing it was the Cruciatus Curse, Sariah," I answered reluctantly.

Sariah's jaw dropped. "One of the Unforgivable Curses?"

I nodded grimly. The Cruciatus Curse was indeed one of the Unforgivable Curses that earned the user a lifetime visit to Azkaban, but that didn't stop any of them from being some of the favorites for the Death Eaters.

"The Unforgivable Curses are well known to Lord Voldemort and his followers," I said simply.

To my surprise, Sariah didn't flinch or recoil when I said the name, but one of the eyebrows did rise. "Since when have you said Voldemort's name?" she asked calmly.

"I could ask you the same question," I returned easily. "But as the headmaster said, 'Fear of name only increases the fear of the thing itself. A name is nothing to be feared.'"

Sariah smiled at Dumbledore's quote, but the smile vanished suddenly. "Remus, what happened to you?" Sariah's eyes were wide with astonishment, but I just stared at her – I didn't know what she was talking about. Then she raised a hand and placed it gently on my robes where a dark red stain lingered. "Don't tell me – "

I stopped her fearful guess with a gentle finger to her lips. "No, that isn't my blood, Sariah. That's yours – your cheek was lying against it when I was carrying you."

"Oh." Sariah surveyed me once again. "And you're sure you aren't hurt?"

I sighed irritably. This was one of Sariah's flaws – she really had trouble accepting your word when you said you weren't hurt.

"Sariah, seeing as _you_ are the one still in a bed, shouldn't _I_ be asking that question?"

Sariah smiled weakly and leaned against me. "Good point," she conceded as I slid one arm around her shoulder to make it easier. I rested my head on the top of hers, feeling myself begin to relax at the knowledge that she was mostly unharmed.

We both jumped as someone cleared their throat rather pointedly.

I released Sariah at once and stood as McGonagall gave me a pointed look. Dumbledore simply looked amused, and his eyes were twinkling even more they always did.

"Remus, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave for a few minutes," Dumbledore said. "I need to speak with Sariah."

I inclined my head to the headmaster. "Of course, Professor."

It wasn't until the hospital doors had slammed shut behind me that I realized that Dumbledore might tell Sariah that I was a werewolf.

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I stared as Remus walked away, and was startled all the more when McGonagall carefully closed the door after him.

Dumbledore noted my confusion, for he said gently, "It is best that Remus not hear what I have to say from my lips. If you should choose to tell him afterward, though. . ." He shrugged, his eyes still twinkling.

I could feel a blush forming on my face. I knew that he had seen how close Remus and I had become, and how easily we became accustomed to feeling the other leaning against us. But at least Dumbledore did not come out and say it right then and there; I probably would have died of embarrassment if he had.

"Sariah, I'm afraid I have some very bad news for you," Dumbledore said seriously, the twinkle in his eyes fading. "But first of all – who was it that attacked you and Remus?"

"Fenrir Greyback," I answered numbly, dropping my gaze.

"Ah." For a moment, Dumbledore was silent, and I got the feeling he was judging me and making a decision about me. Finally, he asked, "Did he say anything that confused you? Anything that might have been directed to Remus?"

"Um . . . yes, actually," I said, frowning. "He didn't tell me anything directly, but – but I know that Remus is a werewolf."

Dumbledore surveyed me calmly, although there was a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Is Remus aware that you know?" he inquired calmly instead.

I shook my head. "I thought that it might be best that he not know that I know, because – because it might cause him to worry about it even more. He's already got enough on his plate without worrying about me knowing. And . . . And I don't want to lose him – his friendship, I mean," I corrected hastily, feeling my cheeks burn again.

The twinkle returned briefly to Dumbledore's eyes as he heard my slip.

I lowered my gaze, blushing furiously – Dumbledore probably understood more now that I wished anyone else to know about my feelings concerning Remus Lupin.

"I see," was all he said. He shifted slightly with a soft sigh. "Your guess is correct, Sariah; Remus is indeed a werewolf," he told me. Greyback bit him as a child, a very long time ago. However, I must ask of you that – "

" – that I keep this silent?" I finished. "I will. Things are already hard enough for Remus right now without anybody spreading his secret."

Dumbledore smiled. "I see Remus has chosen wisely where his friends are concerned. You are a good friend to him, Sariah; that much I can see. Most would not want to trust, much less associate with, a werewolf, but you have done both."

"It's what friends do," I offered weakly in my defense.

"Yes, it is what friends do," Dumbledore agreed solemnly. "Now I'm afraid I must return to my bad news. I received a letter from the Ministry of Magic shortly before Professor McGonagall informed me of your attack. I'm afraid that – I'm afraid to tell you, my dear, that your parents – your parents are no longer among the living."

I stared at Dumbledore as his words sank in. "Impossible," I breathed. "No, that can't be! You're lying, aren't you?"

"I am not," Dumbledore replied calmly, but I saw anguish flood his eyes.

"Miss Alycone – " began McGonagall, reaching out a hand towards me.

I slipped out from the bed and ran. I just couldn't listen to them anymore. My parents _couldn't_ be dead. They just couldn't be.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Chapter Twelve_**

**Fourth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Albus Dumbledore_ ~  
I watched sadly as Sariah raced from the hospital wing. I had known from the moment that I had decided to actually tell her that breaking the news of her parents' deaths to Sariah would cause denial, but knowing was not the same as seeing. And it was truly heartbreaking to see it actually happen.

I caught Minerva's arm as she made to follow Sariah. "Albus, you can't just let her wander around!" Minerva exclaimed.

"It is not the best idea for either of us to be the one to play the role of comforter, Minerva," I said calmly. "No, now is not the best time for that. Sariah will want friends by her side."

"Her friends cannot be told of this, Albus!"

"One can."

Striding forward, I saw Remus standing outside the door. He stared in the direction Sariah had gone, his eyes filled with concern. The moment he noticed me, he turned and asked, "What did you do to her?"

I noted with surprise that Remus's voice was almost harsh, and that his eyes were flashing accusations my way. _It appears that the two feel the same towards each other_, I thought. _She will do anything to protect his secret, and he will do anything to ease her pain._

"I told her a piece of rather unhappy news," I answered, knowing that Remus was just being protective and that I should not fault him for wanting to protect her, even if it meant he became suspicious of me. His wolfish nature was always stronger closer to the full moon. "Go to her, Remus – I think you will bring her more comfort than either of us."

Remus studied me for a moment before nodding curtly and heading after Sariah.

Minerva emerged from the hospital wing just then, and gave me an astonished look. "You sent _Mr. Lupin_ after her? You could at least have sent a friend, Albus, not a – a boy!"

"Remus is more than able to help Sariah right now," I replied. "He will be able to give comfort where her other friends cannot."

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
Sariah's scent abruptly disappeared, and I stopped in my tracks, startled. My sense of smell – heightened tremendously due to the full moon – had never been wrong before.

Then again, I hadn't actually used it too much when I was in human form before either.

When I glanced at the corridor, I realized with a start just how far from the hospital wing I had gone. I hadn't been paying attention before, as I had had to concentrate fully on what my sense of smell was telling me while simultaneously avoiding anyone.

I started to pace outside the door, hoping against hope that the room would let me in. _I need a way to get inside. I need a way to get inside. I need a way to get inside._

I knew that the enchantments guarding the room were stronger than any spell I could think to use, so that was the only way I knew of to possibly get inside. Of course, the room might not let me in anyways, if it decided I wasn't being specific enough as to what I required of it. But I could hope that Sariah had simply rushed in and not asked the room to seal itself, and that the room would grant me entrance.

If not . . . well, it was a good thing we had no classes until Monday. I could afford to wait. And I would, if that was what it took.

As I paced the length of the corridor, my mind chanted the request. But I also began considering what could have upset Sariah so. I had never seen her so distraught, not even when we had started learning Switching Spells in Transfiguration and she had gotten a fail on the essay. Of course, everyone had failed, but she had not considered it, and it had upset her. But not as much as this.

That was why I was so worried.

Not many things were so important that she had such trouble dealing with it. Friends were one. School was another. And I guessed that family was there too.

But as far as I knew, none of the Marauders had played a prank on her in the past couple of weeks and her friendship with Lily Evans was as strong as ever. And the headmaster would not have come to speak personally with Sariah if it was merely something about friends.

_Could it be school?_ But no; Sariah fared well in schoolwork, and if she didn't, she was prompt to reach out to teachers and friends for help and got her grades back up in no time. And if it was school, McGonagall, as the Head of Gryffindor House, would have spoken to her, not the headmaster himself. I, unfortunately, had some personal experience there.

It could be something to do with her family. But that made me wonder what it was, because families _were_ allowed to come to Hogwarts if something was so gravely wrong. _What could be so bad_, I wondered, _that Dumbledre had to act as the go-between? Or so good? Or . . ._

_None of these makes sense_, I thought in frustration as I reached the end of the hall. I whirled and stalked back down the corridor.

_Sariah, I _need_ to talk to you. Now._

Finally, the answer to my wishes – a door appeared, silently and swiftly.

It was a dark brown color, and it had no doorknob. I raised my hand to push it open, and it swung itself open quietly before I could even touch it. After I had stepped inside, the door simply melted away into nothingness again, leaving a blank wall behind me.

_I want a place where no one else can enter_, I told the room silently. I wanted to speak to Sariah alone, without interference.

Sariah was sitting on the ground, her head buried in her knees and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, drawing them close to her body. It was almost a fetal position that tore at my heart just as much as the quiet tears I could sense Sariah was shedding.

I padded over to her and sat down beside her. Her shoulders were shaking ever so slightly as she fought to control her emotions.

"Sariah?" I asked softly, touching her shoulder.

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
My head jerked up in surprise when I heard my name. Remus was sitting beside me, his blue eyes full of concern.

"How did you – " I began in surprise.

Remus shook his head silently. "What did Dumbledore tell you?" he asked.

I froze as the thoughts Remus's appearance had driven away began to return. _My parents. . . My _parents_. . . My parents are . . . are dead. . ._ But for some reason I couldn't speak, couldn't form the words to tell Remus what had upset me so. All that came out from my mouth were three words: "Hold me, Remus."

For some reason, he acquiesced without protest, sliding his arms around me and pulling me close. I buried my face in his chest, not caring that this was an extremely awkward position for two fourteens-year-olds to adopt. I felt him rest his chin on the top of my head, and soon one of his hands was soothingly combing through my air.

After a long moment, the tears stopped coming, and I could feel my self-control kicking back in. I gently pulled away from Remus, wiping away the last traces of tears. He released me easily.

"Sorry," I murmured.

"You needed to cry," was all Remus said.

"Yeah, I did," I mumbled, leaning against him again. His presence seemed to be keeping my tears away, at least. I felt one of his hands continue rubbing my back.

"Do you want to talk, or do you want to wait?" Remus asked gently.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep, controlled breath before giving a weak smile to Remus. He was always so caring and selfless.

"Talk now," I said. "Dumbledore – Dumbledore told me that at the same time we were attacked in Hogsmeade, werewolves attacked my parents."

Remus inhaled sharply, his eyes flashing. "Have they been bitten?"

I shook my head. "No," I said shakily, feeling my control start to slip again. "They're – They're dead, Remus. I'm an orphan now."

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
For a moment I stared at Sariah after her statement registered in my mind. Then I quickly said, "You're not an orphan yet, Sariah."

Sariah tilted her head, her silver eyes shining with confusion. "My parents are dead, Remus. Of course I'm an orphan."

"No," I corrected softly. "An orphan is someone without their family – without _any_ family. But you still have your friends, and your teachers, and Dumbledore, and – and me. I'll – _We'll_ never let you be a true orphan, Sariah."

Sariah was silent for a moment. Then she buried her face in my chest once again. "You're a good friend, Remus," came her muffled voice.

I smiled, happy that she was recovering, albeit a little bit. "I had a wonderful example to learn from," I teased, glancing down at Sariah.

Sariah drew back. "One more thing, Remus – Dumbledore confirmed something for me," she said. Her voice shook slightly.

"Confirmed what?"

She took another deep breath. "That you're a werewolf."

I started, completely surprised that Dumbledore would tell her. "You know I'm a werewolf and you're still holding me?" I asked in surprise. Most people would have run away screaming, not say, "Hold me".

"Greyback touched me too," Sariah said dryly. "And I think we both agree that he is quite a lot worse as a werewolf than you, Remus."

"How long have you known?" I inquired.

"It's been coming on slowly," she admitted. "I couldn't just fail to notice that there was pattern in your disappearances, Remus; I've spent a bit too much time with you to be so blind. But it only really hit me when I realized that my scar . . . well, my scar looks likes yours, and I knew that Greyback was a werewolf."

"Anything else?"

"Your eyes," she said softly. "Your eyes are blue, but sometimes – sometimes close to the full moon, I thought I would see them turn green-gold."

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. I couldn't hide this from Sariah anymore than I could hide from James, Sirius, and Peter. They were just too _observant_.

"Yes, sometimes my eyes flash," I said tiredly. "Usually it happens when I'm really angry and I have to fight to control my instincts. Green-gold is usually just before, during, or just after my transformation – gold is the color when I'm in my wolf form."

Sariah raised an eyebrow. "And who was noticing your eye color when you were a wolf, Remus?"

"Uh . . . I don't really know. I just know that I woke up after one transformation and knew that my eyes had turned gold."

Sariah was silent for another moment, resting her head against my chest. I absentmindedly stroked her hair. To my surprise, I was actually _enjoying_ this feeling – the feeling of someone else so close to me that I was trying to protect. _Maybe it's the wolf within me_, I thought ruefully.

"When's the next full moon?"

I blinked in surprise at her question. "Um, tomorrow night, actually," I answered, looking down at her. "Why do you want to know, Sariah?"

She smiled innocently. "Oh, I think I can conjure up a few potions for you in that time period," she said sweetly.

I groaned. "You know I hate taking the hospital wing's potions."

"I'm not the hospital wing, Remus."

"I still hate taking potions."

"You had no trouble drinking that butterbeer drink tainted with potion this afternoon."

"Yeah, well, that tasted like butterbeer. Most potions don't, if you haven't noticed!"

"Good. Now I know what to spike your potion with when you get back."

I groaned again. "I'm going to class," I grumbled, standing up. I wasn't getting anywhere with this argument and didn't want to give her any more ideas.

"Remus?"

I looked back. Sariah was standing too now, and she was smiling.

"Yes, Sariah?"

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Two words. That was it. Just two words. Two simple, quiet, quick words.

But they still managed to put a rather silly smile on my face, and it remained there for the rest of the day, appearing in full force whenever I thought about it.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Chapter Thirteen_**

**Fourth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I sat quietly. Dumbledore had asked me to come to his office today, but he hadn't said why. On top of that, I wanted to get back to the common room and wait for Remus to return. And on top of that, I was wondering what would be done with me. It would be very hard for me to just suddenly go to a Muggle orphanage or become a Muggle foster child.

In short, while I presented a calm, if grieving, face, inside I was a nervous ball of energy.

"Did Remus find you?"

Dumbledore's question startled me, and I looked up, confused. His eyes were twinkling gently, and a small smile shone upon his lips.

"I would assume, from your expression, that he did," Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair. "Good. He is a good friend to you."

"Yes, he is," I agreed softly.

"Now, onto other business," Dumbledore said briskly. "Your parents left their wills in my possession last year, and now that they are – well, you need to know what they say. You are to be left in the care of your godparents."

"My godparents?" I cut in, frowning. _I didn't know I had godparents._ "My parents were both only children, Professor."

"You misunderstood me, Sariah. Godparents are appointed by the parents, but it does not mean that they are blood related to you. They can be, of course, but oftentimes godparents are chosen because they are friends of the parents – friends that the parents can trust their child's wellbeing with in the case that something happens. In this case, they are blood related to you, but that can be accounted to the fact that most, if not all, of the pureblood families are interrelated."

"So who are my godparents?"

"You'll be living with them from now on," Dumbledore continued, ignoring my question. "Unless, of course, you feel that you can't. If that happens, then you'll have to live with someone else."

"Who?"

_Please don't say I'll be put in an orphanage; please don't say I'll be put in an orphanage; please don't say that I'll be put in an – _

"Me," Dumbledore said simply, cutting into my thoughts.

I stared at him, my mouth falling open. "What?" I gasped. "You? But – But certainly, Professor, you – you have better things to do than – than care for an orphan!"

Dumbledore smiled understandingly. "The wills name me a back-up guardian, just in case," he said kindly. "Your parents did not wish to take any chances with your wellbeing in the event of their deaths."

I nodded; that sounded like my parents.

"You will meet your godparents here after the Leaving Feast," Dumbledore said. "Until then, have a good term, my dear."

Understanding that I was dismissed, I stood, thanked Dumbledore, and left his office.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
The first thing I smelled when I entered the common room was fresh flowers – one in particular, actually. It smelled fresh, but also subtle and rare.

Then I smiled when I realized why – Sariah. She was sitting in a chair by the fire, her feet tucked up under her, her hair falling in a delicate, shiny curtain, and her hands holding a book that she was reading. On the table in front of her, where we usually did our homework together when not in the library, was a goblet filled to the brim with some gold-colored liquid and more books.

"I told you I hated potions," I said quietly.

Sariah started, dropping her book and leaping up from her chair. "Remus," she breathed, gazing at me with startled silver eyes.

I grinned. "You're very easy to sneak up on, Sariah," I said easily, slinking over to her chair and sitting down next to her.

"For that, you're drinking this," she retorted, leaning over to snatch up her discarded book.

I scowled down at the liquid in the goblet she had gestured at. "What is it?" I asked suspiciously. I sniffed it and regretted doing so immediately – I could smell butterbeer in there. Saliva flooded my mouth. I was so _thirsty_. . .

Sariah smiled innocently. "You don't trust me?"

"I do . . . just not when it comes to potions."

"Oh, just drink it, Remus."

I took a cautious sip, and gasped as it ran down my throat. It didn't taste like medicine; it tasted like some otherworldly liquid that consisted of the most potent fruits. I couldn't name them, but it tasted exquisite. Without hesitation, I drained the remainder of the goblet.

"What – What _was_ that?" I asked between gasps as the last of the liquid ran down my throat.

Sariah smiled again. "It's an old potion that my great-grandmother created. My – My mom taught it to my last year. It's meant to help you relax and helps you get a better sleep and feel better the next day even if you can only sleep a few hours. I figured you might need it."

I set the goblet down. "Thanks."

"Dumbledore called me to his office today," Sariah said nonchalantly.

I turned slowly to her, feeling myself tense. Maybe it was the wolf's instincts, or maybe it was just me, but I didn't like the idea of Dumbledore saying anything else upsetting to her. "What did he want?"

"My parents left their wills in his care," she explained. "And he says that I'm to move in with my godparents after the Leaving Feast."

I studied Sariah. She had said the words calmly, matter-of-factly, and without a hint of tears, but I could easily sense that it made her unhappy to recall that her parents were dead and that she would never see them again.

"Who are your – "

A sharp tapping on the window made us both start. I sprang up from the sofa and let the owl in. Sariah petted it while I took off its letter and opened it.

"My parents are coming," I announced in surprise.

Sariah moved away from the owl and leaned over to peer down at the letter. "What?"

"My parents are coming," I repeated, holding out the letter so that she could read it for herself. "Dumbledore is inviting parents to come and pick up their kids from the Leaving Feast, and my parents are coming."

"Then I'll get to meet them," Sariah said brightly, but when I glanced over at her, I could see some tears glimmering in her eyes.

"What are you going to tell them?" I asked suspiciously.

My parents knew I had made friends at Hogwarts, but I was careful to keep them in the dark about _why_ the Marauders were so well known.

"Nothing," Sariah said – much too quickly.

I glared at her.

~ _Lily Evans_ ~  
"You're late," I said when Sariah entered the room. Sariah was a hard worker who spent a lot of time on her homework, but she was really late tonight.

"I had to talk to someone," Sariah said evasively.

I raised an eyebrow at her. It was unlike Sariah to be so evasive.

"That _someone_ wouldn't happen to be Remus Lupin, would it?" I asked, wrapping my arms around my knees and throwing her a pointed smile.

I knew that she would rise to bait. Sariah might have a level head that was meant for school and being in control, but I had been her friend for four years; I knew how to get a rise out of her just as easily as I knew how to cast a Levitation Charm. And just as James was one of my sore spots that she delighted in using against me, Remus was one of hers.

Sariah threw me a pointed glare over her shoulder as she started to climb into bed. "What if I was talking to Remus?" she shot back.

"Well . . . a lot of the girls are starting to think that you and him are – "

"Ew, _no_!" Sariah practically jumped a foot in the air as my implication became clear. "No, no, NO! He's a friend, Lily. Dating Remus . . ." She shuddered as if she was being told that we were going to be confronted by the OWLs and NEWTs in the same hour. "Dating Remus would be – would like dating a brother or something."

"You're that close, eh?"

In the end, I got a pillow in the face for my troubles.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Chapter Fourteen_**

**Fourth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I glanced around the Great Hall, which for once was crammed with people. Dumbledore's invitation to parents had meant that many couples had come to see their children, and the train had considerably less people planning to use it this time around. It also meant that no matter where you went, you bumped into _someone_, parent or student. And it was seriously starting to get on my nerves.

"How have you been?" my father asked, clasping me on the shoulder.

"Fine."

"And, uh, the, um – " my mother started to say.

"It's been fine," I said shortly.

My transformations were touchy as it was, and while I understood my mother's concern, I didn't really feel like getting into a full-course discussion until I was as far away from Hogwarts – and therefore people – as I could get: my house.

For a second, we walked through the Great Hall in silence.

"Remus, dear, why don't you introduce us to your friends?" my mother asked, nodding to Sirius and Sariah, who were arguing fiercely about something.

"Sure."

Carefully, I wove my way towards them, noting with a frown that they stopped arguing abruptly at the sight of me.

"If this is about us again, Sirius – " I hissed.

"It's not," they said at once.

"Sure," I said sarcastically.

But before we could get further into the matter, my parents found us, causing Sariah to toss back her hair and plaster a smile on her face as Sirius brought out his most charming yet casually boyish smile. My parents tried to smile back, but I could see their uncertainty. And no one spoke, so it was my turn to break the awkwardness.

"Sirius, Sariah, this is my mom and dad," I said. "Mom, Dad, this is Sirius Black – " he gave them a cocky grin in response " – and Sariah Alycone." Sariah inclined her head politely.

"Where's James and Peter?" Sirius asked, eyes casually roaming the hall.

I shrugged. "Probably vanished already."

Sariah rolled her eyes. "_Probably_ is a grave understatement, Remus. Lily said that James wanted her to meet his parents."

"How did that work out?" I inquired curiously.

"Um . . . well, let's just say that when Lily threatens to hex someone, she means it."

All three of us burst into laughter while my parents exchanged amused glances. I could see my father slowly relaxing; he had thought that I would have a hard time making friends here at Hogwarts, but now I was giving him two examples where it was clear that I _had_ made friends.

"Come on, let's go get seats," Sariah suggested. "Soon the hall will be crowded."

The hall was crowded already, actually, to my disappointment. I had wanted to get in without this kind of trouble. But while the tables were crammed with dishes of food, which was normal, and bunches of people, which was not.

But at least the Slytherins were too busy boasting to their own parents to do much in the way of teasing mine.

Along the way, we bumped into James; introductions went smoothly, although I could tell that my parents were slightly bemused by the fading bruise on James's cheek. I held my tongue. Lily was quite the sort spot for James when revealed or discussed in public – and I knew that he had just as much ammunition against me that I did not want out.

A few moments later, Professor Dumbledore stood and called everyone to attention.

Everyone scrambled to be seated. As it was, I ended up sitting next to Sariah and across from my parents.

Dumbledore's announcement was short yet informative, welcoming, and unique, as it always was. It got its laughs, its sighs, its "What in the world is he talking about?" and everything else it usually got. I could tell that my parents were beaming with happiness that he allowed me to come here and respect for the man who had made it possible.

But Dumbledore wasn't the only one they couldn't stop talking about. I could tell that my parents were rather taken with Sariah, who joked easily with me and teased me incessantly throughout the entire meal. We ended up having an almost normal argument, which revealed some pretty embarrassing things about the both of us. The only difference was that the argument stopped a lot faster because my parents were watching.

"Miss Alycone, are your parents not coming?" my mother asked eventually.

Sariah paused, the laughter in her silver eyes fading as she slowly lowered her goblet. "No," she answered slowly. "They're not coming."

"I'm surprised," my father said. "Any parents of you would be proud parents indeed."

Perhaps my mother sensed that this a bad subject for us to be talking about or maybe she saw how Sariah looked distinctly uncomfortable, because she asked, "What subjects are you taking as electives, dear?"

"Arithmancy and Ancient Runes," Sariah said. I could hear a soft note of relief in her voice, and could see it in her relaxed shoulders.

"Hard subjects," my father noted. "And nothing else interested you? Care of Magical Creatures? Divination? Muggle Studies?"

"My mother's a Muggle-born, so I don't need Muggle Studies," Sariah answered. "And my father deals with a lot of magical creatures at his job at the Ministry, so I already know a lot about that too. And Divination . . . Well, Divination just never interested me."

"Ancient Runes. . . Remus, don't you take Ancient Runes too?" At my nod, my mom continued, "So aren't you too in the same classes, for the most part?"

I nodded again. "Yeah. Sariah's a big help whenever I miss classes."

"Remus," Sariah said suddenly, standing. "I've got to go."

"Oh. Bye," I said.

"It was nice meeting you," she added, inclining her head to my parents. Then she hurried off, her long black hair swinging in time with her steps.

My father smiled. "She's a nice girl," he commented. "And very pretty, I see."

I scowled. "Don't _you_ start too, Dad," I complained. "Sariah – Sariah is my friend, nothing more."

My mother smiled. "Defensive, are we?"

"Mom!"

They both laughed, and I stabbed my pudding with unnecessary force. And splattered it all over my shirt. _Note to self: Forks were not meant to be used to eat pudding_, I thought angrily as I seized a napkin and started trying to fix my mess.

"You'd better get all of that off," my mother scolded. "Professor Dumbledore will not be impressed by – "

"He doesn't do anything but a parting speech and we won't see him on the way out," I shot back absently, scrubbing at the stains. "Why does it matter so much?"

Silence met my words.

I looked up to find my parents exchanging a furtive glance.

"What?" I demanded.

My father finally cleared his throat. "We have to see Professor Dumbledore after the feast before we can leave Hogwarts," he explained finally. "It won't take long; it's just some personal matter, I think."

"So clean up," my mother finished sternly.

"Why?"

"Remus."

"No, not why to clean up. Why are we seeing Dumbledore?"

My mother sighed. "He didn't say."

I swallowed nervously. _Has he changed his mind about allowing a werewolf to study at Hogwarts?_

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I hugged Lily good-bye only to find out that she was refusing to let me go. She only released me when I promised to write to her over the summer. I had a really bad habit of not returning letters, or drafting the replies out but never sending them. And she was determined that it not happen again this summer.

"So you're _sure_ that you're gonna right?" Lily asked again.

I rolled my eyes. "Lily Evans, get your butt on that train and go home! I promised you I'd write, and I will."

"That's what you said last time."

"You don't trust me?"

"No."

"That hurts," I said, pretending to wince and clutch at my heart. "After all the times I've helped with your essays and – "

Lily laughed. "Okay, okay, Sariah," she said.

We hugged one last time before she scurried on the train. Fortunately, there weren't too many people in the way. Lily was one of the few Muggle-borns, and therefore, one of the few whose parents obviously couldn't come.

But still, she was in a better position than me.

When at last the train had gone out of sight, I trudged back to Hogwarts and made my way to the headmaster's office, where I would meet my godparents. While I knew it was inevitable, I still wished to have some time to myself first. I had accepted my parents' deaths. But I knew it would be a longer time still before I could accept it without feeling pain.

I delayed the journey for as long as I could, wishing that I could have stayed with Remus a bit longer. _His parents seemed nice_, I thought as I made my way through the castle.

Moments later seemed to find me standing in front of the headmaster's office, one of my hands raised to knock on it. But for some reason, I couldn't muster the energy, the motor control, or the brains to actually move the hand and knock on the door and enter – and start a new life under whoever my godparents were.

_Come on, Sariah, get yourself together!_ a part of me scolded.

I just couldn't, though.

I didn't want to meet my godparents. I didn't want to start a new life. I didn't want it, not the least bit.

But I had no choice.

I couldn't live alone; I was still a minor by Muggle and Wizarding standards. I just had to learn to deal with the cards I had been dealt. When I was 17, then I could start talking about living on my own.

I stared at the door. It was a familiar feeling, the one invoked by this sight. _And to think only a year ago I was in here just learning about this threat_, I thought, remembering my fear and anxiety when I had first been called into the office.

Finally, I knocked on the door.

Abruptly, the sounds of three voices ceased.

"Come in," Dumbledore called.

With a sigh, I placed both hands on the door and managed to summon the motor control to push it open. It swung away from me, silently and gracefully, revealing Dumbledore's study, resplendent with odds and ends of all kinds, colors, and shapes. It was at once majestic and humble, honest and concealing, a mix of ancient mysteries and modern amusements. It fit Dumbledore perfectly, I thought, as I had always thought.

I walked towards the center of the study only to see –

"Sariah!"

Remus leaped up from his chair, his brown hair disheveled and his eyes wide as he stared at me.

His parents were sitting in the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, and Dumbledore himself was standing. His expression was solemn, but everyone else seemed in complete shock to the point that they could not speak.

"Remus, what are you doing here?" I asked, frowning.

"Sariah – you – I – "

"Miss Alycone," Dumbledore called, catching my attention and silencing Remus. "I would like you to meet your godparents, Mr. and Mrs. Lupin. Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, may I introduce you to your godchild, Sariah Alycone."


	15. Chapter 15

**_Chapter Fifteen_**

**Summer before the Fifth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Mr. Lupin_ ~  
"Everyone in bed?" I asked my wife as I closed the door behind me.

"They should be. _Both_ of them," my wife added, continuing to monitor the dishes, which were washing themselves under her watchful eye.

A smile graced my lips at my wife's words. Remus had been a dream come true for us, even after his . . . accident. However, even though we were content to only have Remus, a small part of me had always hoped for another kid – someone to play and joke around with Remus, someone for my wife to spoil and dress up, someone else to run around and cause trouble and laugh and watch grow and excel.

But caring for Remus, especially during the summer months as the moon waxes, was a full time job. We wouldn't have the time to raise another child. And he or she might resent having a werewolf for a brother.

Sariah was a blessing, in summary. She was Remus's age, and the two got along wonderfully. Remus was smiling and all too often I could hear his laughter, which was a definite improvement. My wife got to spoil Sariah as she'd always hoped to spoil a daughter, and we didn't have to worry about dealing with all the kid issues one did when raising a baby.

However, it also meant that she was now fully in the defiant-teenager phase.

"Are you sure?"

"No."

I laughed as I sat at the table. It was a standard response, all too common nowadays. More than once we had gone up to find the two of them still up fooling around, and while I loved the more carefree Remus, we did have to set some rules.

"Any new explorations today?" I asked, scooping up the _Daily Prophet_ and starting to rummage through the paper.

"No, not really. They actually decided to stick around the house."

"For once."

She laughed. "Did you eat dinner?"

"No, but I'm not hungry. . . And what's bothering you?"

She sighed, lowering her wand, and the sound of dishes stopped. "John," my wife said slowly, turning around. "John, we need to make arrangements for Sariah."

I frowned, lowering the paper to make eye contact with her. "What for?"

"The full moon's in a few days."

I felt my heart go cold. This would be the first full moon Sariah had spent at our house, and I doubted that either of us could completely hide from Sariah the reason why we would not be comfortable having her with us during the full moon. She was a bright and inquisitive child, and I would hate lying to her.

I scowled at myself, angry. Sariah made Remus so happy; it was like a normal childhood right now with her here to brighten his days.

And now – now he would lose her.

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I sensed that Remus's parents seemed rather tense in the morning. It was small things, really, that I noticed – his mother kept repeatedly glancing at his father; his father kept checking on his room – things like that. I could tell that Remus noticed too, but he was quiet about it, continuing to act normal, as if he knew what was wrong but didn't want to acknowledge it – or tell me.

His parents finally revealed the reason for the nervousness during breakfast.

It started with his parents exchanging anxious glances – for the sixth time this morning, I was sure.

"Sariah," his mother began.

I glanced up, keeping my gaze polite and curious. My plate was still half full, and my hair was fastened securely out of the way. So it wasn't that.

Remus had asked me why – for I rarely chose to bind my hair back – and I had told him that I was having a bad hair day. And then I'd tackled him when Remus started laughing. Unfortunately for me, Remus's father's coming to investigate the source of the noise had distracted me enough that Remus had won that match – much to my displeasure.

"Sariah, I'm afraid that you'll have to pack today," his mother continued. "It wouldn't be – it isn't – Tonight you cannot stay here."

I raised an eyebrow at the fumbling of words, but did not dispute the statement. "I wondered when you would bring this up," I said instead, poking at my food. "The full moon is tomorrow night, isn't it?"  
His parents stared at me as though I had just said that I could breathe in outer space.

"You – You _know_?" his father spluttered, clearly amazed.

"She's known for a while," Remus interjected, shooting me a friendly glance. "She pieced everything together after undergoing a few of my – uh – _disappearances_."

"And you – you _agreed_ to come here with Remus even after realizing he was – well, that he was – "

"I have no problem with Remus being a werewolf," I cut in, feeling a displeased frown start to take over my face at their words. Remus was their son; why were they so against the fact that he was werewolf? I was just his friend, and _I_ found nothing wrong with it. "What's wrong with it?"

"Well – "

His mother floundered as she tried to form an answer, obviously thrown off guard by my response.

My frown deepened. "I don't care that he's a werewolf, and neither should you. . ."

For a second, silence reigned.

Then his father laughed, leaning back, and the moment was broken. "No, no, you don't understand, Sariah," he said, his entire body relaxed.

"Understand what?"

"Well . . . It's just . . . We've been so used to people not accepting Remus . . . We've just come to expect prejudice, I guess," he finished. "But we have no problems either. Remus is a handful, but . . . he's still our son."

I shrugged. "And he's still my friend."

"I'm glad to hear it." He paused. "But you still need to pack tonight."

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I paused in the doorway.

Sariah was packing all right, but she didn't look happy. Actually, she looked like she was trying her best not to explode with fury and was instead taking it out on packing. The skirt was slammed into the bag, the socks thrown across the room, the coat flung mercilessly down. Yeah, everything was packed neatly in the end, but . . .

I watched as she struggled to zipper the bag; her hands were shaking with anger so hard that she apparently couldn't keep them still.

Finally, with a rueful sigh, I slipped into the room and pushed her hands away, zipping the bag for her.

"Magic would make this so much easier," she said in a monotone voice, moving to get something else as if she couldn't stand still. "I can't wait until we're seventeen and can use magic without worrying about being regulated by the Ministry for underage magic."

"We have to take the exams too when we turn seventeen," I said.

She didn't seem to hear me. "And then at least we'll be adults – no one will be able to tell us what we have to do or – "

Her words confused me. What did being adults – Where did all of this come from?

And then it hit me.

Sariah was trying to distract herself from the thought that she had to leave, for her own safety. That was why she was so angry and yet could speak in such a monotone voice. She didn't want to leave me, although _why_ I could not fathom.

"You're really unhappy about this, aren't you?" I realized.

Sariah froze. Then her shoulders slumped and she sighed. "Yes," she admitted.

I placed my hand on her shoulder. "You know it's for your own safety, Sariah. And . . . I don't want to risk the fact that I could bite you."

"You wouldn't."

"And how would you know? It'd be better for everyone if we knew you were safe."

She collapsed on the bed, her eyes downcast. "I don't like the idea of leaving you behind like this," she said bluntly. "It makes me feel like I'm a coward, running away when you most need friendship."

I sat beside her. "Sariah, you are _not_ a coward."

"Doesn't seem like it."

"Actually, it more like the other way around," I admitted quietly.

Her head snapped up, and surprise flared in her silver eyes. Immediately, her thoughts moved from her own admittance to mine, and I could see the confusion on her face. She didn't understand what I meant, not the least bit.

I wasn't exactly surprised, though. How could I expect her to understand me so quickly?

"What do you mean?"

"I meant exactly what I said."

"You're _not_ a coward, Remus. If you were, you wouldn't have stood against Greyback. You would have run."

"So I'll put you in so much danger and yet I can't – I can't even have to see me . . ." I trailed off, unable to finish. I _was_ a coward, even more than her. "I can't let you see me like that. Like a monster who has no control; no future and no destiny and little else besides. A rabid dog that should be put down for the safety of society. A – A useless freak who can't contribute anything."

"Why do you say that?" she breathed. Shock shone on her face.

I shot to my feet. "Because I am! I am and you know it! And you cower in fear now because you can see it!"

I turned away, ashamed and ready to lick my wounds. There. I'd done it. She'd probably not forgive me for this. I'd lose her. I expected her to walk away in silence, in fear, in disgust. I expected her to shun me. I expected her to leave.

I did not expect her to tug at my arm and turn me around.

"Remus," she said softly. "You're _not_ a monster. You're a good person."

"I'm a werewolf."

"And?"

"That's enough of a curse for most of society."

"Well, society is wrong," she said sharply. "And you should not listen to it or let it dictate who you are."

Startled, I lifted my head to meet her eyes. She had never said anything like this before.

"Remus, listen to me," she said. "You may be a werewolf, but you're also a wizard, a human. You're not a monster or a freak. You're a person."

"I wish the rest of society could believe that."

She shook my shoulders. "Remus, are you listening or not? Don't listen to society. You – as you are – you're a great person. Don't let your past dictate your destiny. Be who you are, not what you are."

"It's harder than you think to believe that."

"Try," she whispered. "Just try."

I pulled away, unable to retain the eye contact with her any longer. "You should finish packing. You're leaving in a few hours."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Sorry for the week-late update; as everyone has probably found out, Fanfiction is having some issues with letting us reach our stories due to some site errors. I did find a way around the error, so I can post regularly now, so, my apologies!

Also, I am aware that the disease I use as an example is probably extremely out-dated; but as far as my Googling showed, leprosy didn't have a cure around the time Remus was at Hogwarts and I think it's obscure enough to be used.

* * *

**_Chapter Sixteen_**

**Summer before the Fifth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I barely got a wink of sleep that night, but I was still completely full of nervous energy the next morning, when I was to return to the Lupins. I sure showed it, I knew – my clothes were thrown haphazardly into the suitcase; my hair was a total mess of tangles; and there were dark circles under my eyes.

But I couldn't help it.

My best friend – a guy who was practically my brother in every way – had just undergone one of the most painful experiences in the entire Wizarding World, and I was worried.

Very worried.

I barely picked at my dinner; I probably consumed one or two bites out of the entire thing. I spent most of the night pacing in my room, wringing my hands and nervously tugging at my hair. When I grew too tired, I lay in my bed, but I was still just too worried to fall asleep – I spent the entire time tossing and turning or just staring at the ceiling with a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. When the sun rose, I was up and packing, throwing everything in reach into my luggage to get ready. And even though I was starving by noon, I again didn't touch my breakfast or lunch.

Now, I waited for one of Remus's parents to Apparate and bring me home.

I was supposed to be home by about 1:00 PM, and they weren't late yet, but impatience was gnawing at me with sharp teeth.

Part of me was confused as to why I was so worried.

Remus and I were great friends, but we weren't _that_ close. And he had already survived countless transformations; he had even showed up the next day at school, exhausted – but still present. So, that part of me reasoned, he should be fine.

And yet . . . I couldn't relax.

Finally, I heard the faintest of _pop_s and Remus's father appeared, haggard and gaunt. He forced a slight smile when he saw me.

I sprang to my feet. "Remus – is he all right?" I blurted.

Remus's father sighed and ran a hand through his rumpled hair. "As all right as you can be." His tone was short and bitter, as if half of him hated Remus and half of him was blaming himself.

I didn't know which side had more dominance, so I shut up.

In a jerky, short movement, he produced a wand from his cloak's inner pocket. He flicked his wand, sending my luggage back to the house, and returned it to his pocket. Then he took my hand, glancing nervously over his shoulder to make sure we weren't being watched or followed or anything.

"Hold on tight," he cautioned.

I did.

There was that horrible sensation again, like being forced through a very tight and rubbery yet elastic tube. I couldn't blink or breathe or wince; I was paralyzed.

And then with a _whoosh_, we were back.

I heaved and nearly threw up, but thankfully I held it in.

Remus's father dropped my hand and headed over to deal with my luggage. I waited for a moment, wondering if he wanted me to help – but he said nothing.

With a shrug, I moved inside.

And when I reached the staircase, I started running. I just ran, clutching at the railing like a lifeline to get me up the stairs without falling. I dashed around the corner and skidded to a halt outside Remus's door.

It was shut, and I couldn't hear any sounds from inside.

Feeling stupid, I knocked on the door tentatively.

Immediately, the door opened and Remus's mother appeared.

"Try not to wake him, all right?" she whispered, moving past me with a whole tray of potions, some of which looked downright nasty.

I crept inside, jumping when the door shut behind me.

Remus's room was simple, basic, and neat. He didn't have much stuff, after all, and he was a neat person anyways. His room was simple – the basic white walls, tan furniture, plain bed sheets – but that made it seem only more organized.

And it made me look like a downright slob. But . . .

Remus himself was lying in the bed. He was very pale, even paler than normal. And there were a few more nasty cuts on his arms and neck and, I was sure, all over his body. But, thankfully or not, I couldn't see them. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow – much shallower than any person's ever ought to be.

I sighed. _Well, he's alive. What else did you want?_

I was just turning around to leave when a soft, almost hoarse voice asked groggily, "Sariah?"

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
Sariah whirled around, her silver eyes finding me instantly. "Remus?"

I struggled to sit up for her – and then she was by my side, shaking her head, pressing down on my chest to make sure I stayed down.

"Don't sit up," she warned. "Or your mother will yell at me."

I sighed. "Well, at least sit down."

She forced a smile at me, but the concern stayed in her eyes. Turning around, she grabbed my chair and yanked it over, plopping down in it as though she didn't really care.

I let my eyes flit over her. She looked . . . She looked terrible. There were dark circles under her eyes, accentuating the silver color of her eyes. Her normally neat black hair was tangled and stringy, as though she hadn't introduced a brush to it for a few days. All in all she looked . . . nearly as bad as me. Nearly.

I was exhausted, cut up, and had just been medicated as much as you can. So, naturally, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

"You look terrible. What were you doing?"

Sariah cocked her head. "Funny. . . I could say the same thing about you. Minus the question," she added hastily.

I shrugged. "I'm used to it," I said dismissively. "But what were _you_ doing?"

She shifted. "Nothing."

_Liar._ But that would have been impolite to say, so I merely raised an eyebrow at her. "I can see that."

Sariah covered her face. "Oh shut up, Remus," she said with an irritated groan. "I'm too tired to think properly enough to argue with you."

"And why is that?"

"I'm tired."

"Yes. Now tell me _why_, Sariah."

"You're not my parent."

"No, but if you feel the right to diagnosis my health issues, I will do the same to you," I pointed out. "Besides, for me this is normal. For you, it's obviously not. You were never like this in school."

"How do you know?"

"Sariah, would you just answer me?"

She groaned. "_Fine_. I didn't get any sleep because I stayed up."

I was unimpressed. "Doing?"

"Pacing," she muttered.

I stared at her, baffled. I had never seen Sariah pacing before – and I mean _never_. If she was nervous, she usually ended up tapping rapidly on a desk or biting her lip. But she never paced; she said it made her seem like she was hyperactive.

So that she was now made it all the more significant.

"Why?" I finally asked.

Her cheeks flushed. "I . . . I was . . . Remus, come on. I was worried about you. Did you really think I could just . . . leave you and not think about you at all?"

"Yes," I muttered. "That would be desirable."

"No, it's not."

"It is for me."

"And why you?" she demanded. "Why you and no one else?"

I glared at her. She of all people ought to know, after our argument earlier why I would prefer no one worry about me. It was my curse to bear for a reason.

But Sariah, of course, wasn't so easy subdued by a glare.

If anything, she glared right back.

"I'm a monster, and you know it," I said finally. "So you should be more worrying about what damage I do to everyone else than to myself."

Anger flashed through Sariah's silver eyes – so quickly and powerfully that it left me stunned for a moment. I had never really seen Sariah truly angry; I had heard her scold people and get irritated or frustrated – but angry? Never.

But then, just as swiftly, it was gone, and her expression grew rigid and impassive.

"Why are you a monster?" she asked suddenly.

For a second, I stared. Had I just heard her right? Had she really just asked me _why_ I was a monster? She, who knew exactly what I was?

"Isn't it obvious?" I shot back finally.

She didn't even blink. "No. Give me a concrete reason why."

"I'm a werewolf."

"And?"

"_And_?" I repeated incredulously.

"Yes, _and_," she said pointedly. "Your condition is an infection, like . . . like, say, leprosy. It's not your fault what happens. You can't control it. You didn't ask for me."

I felt like laughing hysterically. If she was trying to cheer me up, she was failing enormously. "Like _leprosy_? Sariah, you can't be serious!"

"Then tell me what separates them."

"I could infect you and doom you to my life without a cure."

"There's no real cure for leprosy yet," she said quietly. "And I could get infected by a leper too."

"I wreak havoc on society."

"So can lepers."

"Sariah!"

"You haven't given me a reason yet," she said seriously.

"But – you really can't . . ."

I trailed off at the dark look she gave me. Sariah honestly would not give up until I gave her a reason she would take. Unfortunately, knowing her and her determination and stubbornness, that might take a long, long time. It was times like these when I wished Sariah wasn't so logical and would give in to her common sense.

But I still had one last argument.

"I can . . . I could kill you," I forced out, my voice cracking on the words.

Sariah shrugged. "So could a leper."

I stared at her. I couldn't think of any of arguments. There were probably a few hundred more, but I was tired, injured, and shocked that she could so calmly treat my lycanthropy as if I was a normal person who was merely ill.

I mean, technically, that was what I was, but generally people didn't act that way. When their common sense kicked in, generally people _backed off and stayed away_.

So maybe Sariah's sense of self-preservation was gravely off.

But in any case . . . most people would have folded under my arguments right there.

It was like I could threaten to bite her on a full moon and she would just . . . laugh it off and go on believing I would never be able to hurt her, no matter what – not even if she knew (and I was sure she knew) that when I was a werewolf I lost my mind and would rip anyone apart, from my own mother to a total stranger.

Sariah shifted in her chair. "Remus. . . I don't understand why you can't accept that you're not a monster. You could do just as much damage as anyone else in this world. But you – you don't choose to. You've chosen to lock yourself alone in a basement and not hurt anyone. You could have joined . . . Greyback . . . and lived with other werewolves. But you didn't. You chose to save me instead, and suffer for it."

"Even heroes have their dark sides," I offered bitterly.

"But only the real ones try to control them," she said softly.

I stared. She thought I was some type of hero? In my daydreams . . . and enchanted ones at that. . .

Or . . . maybe not a daydream.

"Are you . . . serious?" I whispered.

Her lips twitched. "Would I lie to you?"

"Yes."

Sariah grinned shame-facedly. "Okay, maybe I would to make you feel better," she conceded. "But right now I'm not."

"Is it because I'm not feeling better or because you like debating?"

"Oh shut up."

I allowed myself a relieved grin. It was like for once I could completely relax. It wasn't that I thought Sariah was a bad liar or anything; everything just sounded . . . felt . . . _right_. For one.

Well, except one thing.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot, then."

Sariah sighed. "Let's save the self-reproach for later, can we? I'm tired."

"Your fault for fretting," I teased.

"_Shut it_, Remus."

And then I knew we were back to being friends again.

And for once, I couldn't imagine a happier situation to be in – especially not at this moment, as we shared rueful, teasing grins.


	17. Chapter 17

**_Chapter Seventeen_**

**Fifth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
"Sariah?"

"Hmm?"

I spared a single, one-second, harassed glance at Remus before I returned my attention back to my currant-black potion that was _supposed_ to be pale lilac. Annoyed, I scanned the list of ingredients, trying to figure out where I had gone wrong. I had already added the sopophorous bean juice, put in the sliced valerian roots, dropped in the wormwood, suffered through the sloth brain addition. . . What else _was_ there?

"You need to stir," he explained, amusement in his tone. "Clockwise. Seven times."

I slammed my book shut and started stirring. I was too frazzled and frustrated to try and figure out whether he was right. He usually was, after all.

Thankfully, my potion immediately started lightening.

I sighed in relief. "Oh, thank God. . ." I glanced up at Remus, finally registering his presence for real. "Is that really all you came over for? To gloat at me being unable to brew a simple Draught of Living Death?"

"To be fair," he countered, "half of us are still doing the Hiccup Solution. Only the advanced ones proceeded to the Draught of Living Death."

I leaned around him and spied his empty cauldron, which, predictably, was already cleaned up, and he had a neatly labeled and corked vial of his sample, which was almost the color of water, sitting on Slughorn's desk. He was already way ahead of me. But then again, so was Lily, who was brewing the Wiggenweld Potion, the counter to the Draught of Living Death, which – despite being only a counter – was actually way more complicated.

I raised an eyebrow at Remus. "You came all the way over here to tell me that?"

"Well, no." He pointed at the clock. "Wasn't your appointment with McGonagall for career advice – "

With a sickening feeling, I realized what he meant. I was five minutes late already – and I still had to clean up, pour out a vial of solution to be graded, gather all my stuff together, let Slughorn know, and then run all the way back to McGonagall's office.

I started to reach for my cauldron – Remus pushed my hands away.

"Just go!" he said. "I'll take care of his."

I threw my books in my bag as fast as I could and slung it over my shoulder. "Thank you so much," I told him quickly before hightailing it out of there.

"I'm – I'm so sorry – Professor," I panted as I burst into the office.

Professor McGonagall merely sighed. "No matter, Alycone," she said briskly. "Sit. And do calm down; you're not as bad as some of your colleagues, you know. At least you actually remember within an hour's time."

Cheeks stinging, I settled myself into the chair.

McGonagall set aside the newspaper she'd been reading and reached for a file with various papers in it, with a photo of me from first year and my name in neat capital letters. Scattered all over her desk was various pamphlets, which I recognized as being the ones they had given us a week earlier to look over before we came, for there was the troll security guard one, and the Muggle liaison one, and the Auror one, and many others besides. It reminded me just how many jobs wizards and witches could have.

"Now then," McGonagall began, "can you tell me what career you are currently interested in?"

"Um . . . I think teacher."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at me. "Was that a question or a statement, Miss Alycone?" she asked, amusement in her tone for the first time since I had met her.

I bit my lip, struggling to keep my tone calm. "Statement, Professor."

She nodded, somehow managing to extract a medium-sized black pamphlet from the overcrowded mess on her desk. "Let's see. . . You would need a top grade in whatever subject you plan to become a teacher in," she noted, "and, of course, four or five other N.E.W.T.s as well. General knowledge, of course, although specialization need not be avoided. Do you know which subject you would like to teach?"

"Um . . ."

I cast my mind back. Ever since I had come to Hogwarts, I had admired the teachers, and I had wanted to be like them. But not for once had I actually sat down and started figuring out exactly _what_ subject. There were the exceptions, of course, the ones I absolutely refused to teach – Potions and Flying among them.

"Not sure?" she prompted.

I nodded. "I know what I _don't_ want to do," I explained. "Potions, Flying, Astronomy. . . But not quite what I'd want to specialize in."

She glanced at a folder. "Well, this is career consultation for a reason," she said briskly, opening it. "Your grades seem on whole balanced out – Potions perhaps a bit low, but your work Professor Flitwick and I falls into the 'Exceeds Expectations' so I do not think you will have too much of a problem."

"So I'm guessing you would recommend Charms and Transfigurations?"

"Naturally; one never knows what scrapes their students will get into. For general knowledge, I would also add Potions and History of Magic."

I made a face. History of Magic was the only class taught by a ghost, Professor Binns, and it was one of the most boring classes at that. It was lucky that he didn't notice much, since he spent so much time droning on and on, because half of the students fell asleep or played games. Not one of us in the fifth year had managed to stay awake for one entire year in his class; I had resorted to charming my quill to copy his word verbatim because I simply had no other way of passing the end-of-year exams.

Professor McGonagall gave me a rare, small smile. "Yes, History of Magic, Miss Alycone," she repeated. "I believe that it will be very useful to you as a teacher, since most of my colleagues do not bother going into the histories of what we teach."

"Yes, Professor," I sighed.

"And I think you will do rather well. You have an excellent aptitude for understanding the concepts and putting them in writing. You could work on the application of those concepts sometimes, I find, but you have two more years to practice." She surveyed me. "Yes, I think you'll do very well, and I'm sure that most of my colleagues will be sure to pressure Professor Dumbledore should you ever apply."

"Oh . . . um . . . Thank you, Professor," I stuttered, startled.

Using spells in Transfiguration was something I always struggled with – the last thing I had expected from the Transfiguration teacher was praise.

She nodded once before tapping a black sheet with her wand, making it change into a sleek new format almost as crowded with information as her desk was littered with pamphlets, and handing it to me.

"Here are most of the details you need to know. Good day, Miss Alycone."

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I leaned against the wall as I shoved the sheet to the bottom of my bookbag, my mood turning darker and darker the more I thought about my prospects. I was a good student here; Professor McGonagall had even clearly said so. But my good grades would do nothing to counter the prejudice against . . . well, someone like me.

With a sigh, I walked off towards the Great Hall. It would be study hall for the first years soon, and as prefects Sariah and I were supposed to monitor it.

Besides, Sariah usually found a way to cheer me up no matter what.

When I entered the Hall, I paused to scan for her. I smiled. As usual, she was sitting with a group of confused first-year, patiently explaining a concept about some complicated spell before demonstrating it with a flick of her wand. She watched as one by one they attempted, encouraging those who failed and congratulating those who succeeded.

It was a normal routine for her. True, she did monitor the study halls, but oftentimes she also ended up helping students, something I was far too shy to assist with.

"How'd it go?" was the first thing she asked when she spotted me.

I tried to be positive. "Well, she said I had the right grades," I said slowly. "She said my grades are around 'Exceeds Expectations'. Well, in everything but Transfiguration, of course; I can't really write well or do the spellwork on anything but 'Acceptable'."

"That's pretty good considering where we are," Sariah reminded me.

"How did yours go?" I asked, eager to move on. I had little doubts that Sariah's future, unlike mine, was strong and bright. Her grades were as good as mine, and she had the background to match it.

She shrugged. "I've got the green light for being a teacher. But I do need to bring up my Potions grade to scratch. And apparently I _have_ to continue with History of Magic as one of my five N.E.W.T.s."

I gave a sympathetic groan. I was planning to drop out – almost all of us were – after we took the O.W.L.s.

"What else do you have to do?"

"Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy," she answered.

I brightened a little. I would be taking those classes too, even if I knew that they wouldn't affect my future a single whit.

"So we'll be together," I said. Then I frowned. "Wait, what about Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Well, I've mostly been getting a lot of 'O's on the papers," she explained, "and I'm not going into that field, so I think I'll be okay without it. But you're right – maybe I should take it. I suppose I could drop – "

"Sariah, you can handle seven classes," I protested. "You already are. You'll be fine."

"Maybe."

"I can bet you'll have more O.W.L.s than me."

"Don't you _dare_ grab my results and dance around the house with them, or else I'll hex you the moment we get on the platform in September," she threatened. "Your parents will let me, I'm sure; I know the countercurses and everything. I can change you back in time for you to put on your Hogwarts robes on the train."

"And how do you plan on getting me _on_ the train?" I asked, amused.

"Hover Charm."

"Oh, so _scary_," I mocked.

"I mean it, Remus. Just because your parents are my godparents doesn't mean I'll tolerate more Marauder tricks from you."

"Sure," I said breezily, already envisioning the multitude of tricks I could pull on her.

Sariah set me a sharp glance. "Remus, you never said what _you_ want to be," she said suddenly. "You know I want to be a teacher. And you?"

"Um . . . well . . . The thing is . . ."

I shuffled my feet, stammering, unable to form a cohesive thought. This question was a minefield. And Sariah knew about my condition too, and probably knew more about the prejudice against me.

My dark mood returned.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" I commented gloomily. "No sane person would hire me."

"_What do you want to be?_"

"An Auror," I finally revealed.

She smiled. "You'd be excellent at that."

"Not if the Ministry doesn't take me. I'm a Dark creature myself. The Aurors would probably hex me instead of hire me."

"Don't be so negative," she chided. "You've already broken several boundaries, haven't you? You're the first one to go to Hogwarts. And within a few months you'll be the first to take the O.W.L.s. Successfully. And then the first one to get the highest score possible on the N.E.W.T.s you take."

"Hmm."

She placed her hand on mine. "You'll see, Remus. One day things will get better."

It was hard to argue with her steel logic – or the simple confidence and affection in her words. My dark mood melted away under her smile, and I found myself smiling back at her. She was so confident – surely she would be right.

One day, at least.

And hopefully a day I would live to see.


	18. Chapter 18

**_Chapter Eighteen_**

**Fifth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Dayn Maran_ ~  
I should have been happy. Extremely happy. Through-the-roof happy. Happy enough to scream so loudly the whole world would know that this was on the best days of my entire – although very short – life.

Instead?

Instead, I was hiding behind a bookcase playing sleuth.

It was fifth year for us. O.W.L.s year. Career-choosing year. An important year.

I wanted to become a Curse Breaker. It was not exactly the most risk-free job – but what was life without a little risk? And I'd be working mainly on my own schedule, without a real boss, living with my wits, breaking curses, seeing amazing exhibits _before_ anyone else would even know they existed, traveling all over the world and getting paid to do it. . .

My idea of a dream career.

And Professor McGonagall had just told me that, considering my grades, I was in a pretty good place to getting it, just as long as I scored at least As and Es on my O.W.L.s.

_Like that would be a problem._

I was well on my way.

I had walked back to the Gryffindor common room assured and bursting with happiness. I had wanted to tell Sariah the instant I saw her, to share my happiness with her – she, after all, had already delightedly told me that Professor McGonagall had told her that she had an excellent aptitude for being a teacher, although for which subject she didn't yet know. I wanted to pay back the favor.

And besides, she was _my_ girlfriend. If she didn't know . . .

But Sariah had barely given me a flicker of a smile. Her eyes had been completely distracted as she rummaged through her bookbag, saying absently, "Congratulations – Isn't that what you wanted? I'm sorry, I'm running late and I can't find my books – I'll take to you later, all right?"

And then she had run out before I could say a word. Without a smile. Without a genuine congratulations. Without even a _backwards glance_.

Fuming, I had followed her.

I knew exactly who was to blame for her . . . distractedness.

With the O.W.L.s approaching, Sariah had been studying more and more – and there was only one reason she'd run off so quickly: she was late for a study group, probably for Potions, which she struggled with.

And there was only _one_ person that would make her so concerned for being late.

_That stupid, conniving, tainted _half-breed_. _

_ Remus Lupin._

I clenched my hands into a fist as I saw the smile on her face and the amusement in his as they greeted each other.

_That smile belongs to me. And _only_ me._

Lupin said something, probably off-hand, as he scanned her Potions homework essay and she perched on the edge of the sofa, practically leaning over his shoulder, trying to read his expression. She laughed.

_That laugh belongs to me as well._

_And that kind of distance – that closeness – belongs to _me_._

Lupin rolled up the essay and tapped her teasingly on the nose with it, startling her into another burst of laughter, before he started making suggestions.

I didn't interfere.

It wasn't like I really had a choice.

Fifth year was also the year prefects were chosen. And Sariah (of course) had been made one of them, of which I was proud.

Lupin was the other.

And to my deep frustration, apparently prefects shared a lot of duties together. Like escorting first years to classes. _I caught Lupin helping her fix her bookbag after it broke when she tripped and then holding her hand to help her up._ Like watching over first-year study halls in the Great Hall. _I caught Lupin whispering in her ear, their faces so close that a single centimeter more would have meant snogging._ Like helping put up different decorations for each holiday. _I caught Lupin showing off his magical skills and then her trying to teach him how to dance._

It seemed like every time I turned around, Sariah was not at my side – like she was supposed to – and instead of his, whispering in his ear, laughing with him, holding hands. _They_ could have passed for boyfriend and girlfriend.

And I was so _not_ taking it lying down.

Sariah was _my_ girlfriend. She chose _me_. She was dating _me_.

Not Lupin.

Not _ever_ Lupin.

Sariah had brushed away my concerns over Lupin. But I _knew_ that something was off about him. I wasn't sure, but I knew. And the best-fitting – heck, the _only_ fitting – theory was that he was a disgusting half-breed.

I didn't want my girlfriend anywhere near that.

But for now . . . for now, I couldn't act. Sariah had given me a tongue-lashing the likes I'd never suspected she could give the last time I had tried to keep her away for her own good.

I'd just have to work on Lupin for now.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
"Remus!"

Sariah plopped down on the sofa, looking distinctly harassed.

"I am _so_ sorry! I couldn't find my books and then I had to speak to Dayn and Peeves caught me coming down here and – "

I held up a hand, smiling inwardly. "Calm down, Sariah. Deep breaths. That's right."

She glared at me, no doubt hating the teasingly patronizing tone I was using, but she set her bookbag down, leaned against the sofa, and at least started to calm down. Her breathing evened out, and her eyes seemed calmer, and her hair finally got a chance to settle around her shoulders instead of being whipped this way and that.

I laughed to myself. _Not _quite_ the image of a teacher_, I thought to myself.

Well, yes, Sariah would be good teacher – except in Potions – but sometimes she really did need to calm down once in a while.

Like now.

"I'm calm. Can I talk now?"

I smiled. "Why not?"

Sariah rolled her eyes. "Because _you_ are becoming way too much like my father," she said pointedly, opening her bag and produced a roll of parchment. "Slughorn wants it by next week – Can you tell me what you think?"

I blinked. "Me?"

"Yes, _you_." She caught sight of the look on my face and explained, "Yes, I know, I usually go to Lily for Potions, but she's hiding from James and doesn't want to be disturbed."

I accepted the essay and unrolled it. I scanned it as quickly yet concisely as possible; while I didn't want to give her a false opinion, I also wanted to get down to studying. Transfiguration was my weak point, and Sariah had promised to help me with that. I needed to pass the O.W.L.s, and she understood that better than anyone else.

I needed to prove that even a werewolf could do it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I realized that Sariah was practically leaning over my shoulder, doubtlessly having an anxiety attack. Her eyes were completely focused on her paper, not even registering the fact that she was so close to me – not even caring. She didn't care that I was reading a paper in a subject she was bad at, or that I was seeing her having an anxiety attack, or that we were so close.

The thought sent a warm gush of affection rushing through my veins.

Sariah knew that I was a werewolf. She knew that I was dangerous, that most of society hated me, that my life was doomed to misery, pain, and isolation.

Yet she was able to put it aside so completely that she could be so close to me and _not care_.

It was exhilarating.

After all, even some of the professors eyed me uneasily. I got fair grades, but definitely there was suspicion about me among the staff. And the students just thought I was weird, period. I was not part of the popular crowd.

And Sariah didn't care.

I rolled up her essay – and tapped her on the nose.

"Why were you worrying?" I asked. "It's perfectly fine. I can't even find a single spelling error."

Sariah laughed, her silver eyes relaxing, and tucked the parchment away. "You know me, Remus; I get all worked up sometimes."

"Definitely," I concurred.

She held her hand out, eyes alight with amusement. "And you will too," she threatened playfully. "Why don't you give me _your_ essay for McGonagall and let's see if I can say the same about your essay, hmm?"

"I thought we were studying!" I protested weakly.

"_Give it to me._"

I backed away, outwardly maintaining my startled, defensive look. Half of it was just a game – just teasing Sariah to get a rise out of her, just like the siblings we technically were. And half of it was genuine was surprise – I had thought we'd be studying, not cross-examining each other's homework essays.

"But I don't have it."

"So, go get it then," Sariah said pointedly. "I'll get out the study stuff while you're going."

I groaned. "Sariah, it's all the way back in Gryffindor Tower," I complained. "Why can't we just study here?"

"Because," she explained, "that essay is the summary assignment – it's _meant_ to help us study. If it's wrong, so is what you're thinking. And we need to know what you're bad at before we can study, Remus."

I stood up with a sigh. "Going, Ms. Bossy."

"I am _not_ bossy!"

"I beg to differ."

"Beg all you want. I am still not agreeing with that insult."

"Do as you wish."

"Remus!"

Laughing, I darted away behind the bookcase, getting out of range before Sariah decided that she didn't care about Madame Pince and hexed me. And I didn't favor being on the receiving end of a hex from her anymore than James wanted to duel Lily. I was better than Sariah in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but that didn't mean that Sariah was completely helpless and ignorant in terms of how to punish people who displeased her. And in that scenario, I really would like to stay on the "good" list, because James and Sirius were on the "bad" list, and I had seen some of the more . . . interesting side effects of some of Sariah's curses.

That was when someone reached out and seized my arm.

I whirled abruptly, startled.

"Maran," I said, yanking my arm away and almost reaching for my wand before deciding against it; Sariah didn't need to see me hexing her boyfriend.

He offered me a humorless, superior smile. "Lupin," he replied, venom clear in his voice.

I winced inwardly.

He was a Slytherin and I was a Gryffindor – rivalry, disagreement, and dislike was almost a given between us. But this was more than just a typical House-rivalry type of venom that I was hearing in Maran's tone of voice when he spoke my name; this was the I-hate-your-guts-personally type of venom.

The kind of venom I usually got from people who were anti-werewolf.

But Maran didn't know.

No students did. Well, except Sariah and James and Sirius and Peter . . . right?

Wait. No. Snape knew. He had glimpsed me at the end of the tunnel during the last full moon, only a few weeks ago, during Sirius's little trick. And since then, he had grown ever more condescending to me, knowing I could not retaliate without letting my secret out and letting me stew in anxiety and fear. Even Sariah had noticed – but I hadn't told her yet. She was more than worried enough about my lycanthropy already. And she, so far, had let it slide, respecting my privacy and probably thinking it had to do with me hiding my injuries.

But she could hardly fail to notice when her boyfriend accosted me over it.

_Darn it._

And Snape was a Slytherin too, a _friend_ of Maran. .

"What is it?" I asked, keeping my voice sharp yet in line. Sometimes, I found that the best way was to be offensive from the start while being just respectful enough not to ignite a war.

"We need to talk."

I nodded and took a step towards the door. "We have class next, don't we?"

"Stop." Maran grabbed my arm again, his eyes throwing sparks at me. "I don't want a public scene. I want to talk _now_."

I let my free hand slip into my pockets, feeling for my wand. I didn't think he would go so far, as we were in Hogwarts, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. And besides, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that told me that this conversation was more serious than Maran was letting on.

Way more serious.

So I nodded again, wrenched my arm free, and followed him silently out of the library.


	19. Chapter 19

**_Chapter Nineteen_**

**Fifth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
Maran chose an abandoned classroom a floor or two up from the library, which was clear of desks, chairs, and pretty much everything else. That didn't bother me; we couldn't quite have proper conversation in the hallway corridor.

What _did_ disturb me was that after he entered, he tapped the lock with his wand.

In short, he had locked us in.

"Don't want to be disturbed," was Maran's terse answer as he shut the door behind him.

My hand slipped immediately into my pocket. It might be just the old Gryffindor-Slytherin prejudice that had Maran wanting this fight – because it was obviously going to turn into something like that – away from the teachers. Or it could be something much more dangerous . . . especially as Maran was one of the Slytherins that I knew had gotten in big trouble for using Dark Magic on Mary Macdonald the other day.

And if he hated Muggle-borns, he definitely hated half-breeds.

"What do you want?" I asked tersely. I wasn't in the mood to do any dancing around, especially not with Sariah's boyfriend.

He stepped closer, eyes flashing. "Stay away from her," he hissed.

I raised an eyebrow, starting to calm down. So was it just about Sariah then? Because if it was, then this would be a lot easier to handle. . . I had been fielding insults and jokes about our friendship for ages from the Marauders.

"Why should I?"

"She is _my_ girlfriend, meddling twit," he snapped. "She goes out with me. She likes _me_. And I won't let her – "

"_Let_ her?" I interrupted, anger coloring my tone. "_Let_ her?"

Maran realized his mistake; I could see the flush around his neck. But he remained firm, and I remained at a loss for understanding exactly why he did not want Sariah to be friends with me. Jealously? Rivalry? Prejudice? Either of them could fit this situation more than easily, or combinations of them, or even all of them.

"She is too trusting," he retorted, "to be trusted around you. She'd let you walk all over her without even realizing what was wrong with the situation – or worse."

"If so, is that not _her_ mistake to make?"

"I have to act in her best interest!"

I laughed scornfully. "_Her_ best interest, Maran? If you'll remember, she was friends with me long before she began dating you," I reminded him, enjoying the way he flinched at this not-too-subtle punch in the gut.

"Friends," Maran said. "Keep it that way."

"Why?"

"I've already told you!"

"Or perhaps," I said instead, "you are jealous, and insecure, and unsure of what to do next. But Sariah won't let you say a word against me, so you target me instead of warning her."

His eyes narrowed. "Keep away from her, Lupin. Or else . . ."

"Or else what? _I_ am the prefect, not you."

"Prefect status won't save you from a curse," he said quietly. "Or from the illness that plagues your mother."

My heart stuttered. That was the excuse I had told Sariah and then the Marauders for ages before they had put the clues together and realized why I vanished every full moon. And it was the excuse most of my other friends had bought. But there was no way for Slytherins to know it. . . Or, at least, there _should_ be no way. . . And there something in his tone – something devious, something superior . . . something I did not like.

"No, it won't," I replied as calmly as possible. "But I know what it will do – namely, a detention."

"I will not let you hurt Sariah."

"Funny," I said lightly. "I could have said the same to you."

Maran's eyes flashed as he took yet another step forward, and for a second, I feared I had pushed him too far.

"You are a fool!" he snarled, a ranting rage unwinding from him as though with my words I had given him permission to speak to me so. "Sariah is descended from a lineage far greater than yours! She _deserves_ someone better – someone much, much better than you! You _will_ hurt her, one day, and I will not let you! You're nothing but a filthy low-life who has no respect for the natural order of the world – the cursed Mudblood world _and_ this world. And one day, you will meet the sticky end that you deserve. Hopefully, I will personally see to it if you _do not leave Sariah alone_. She is far better than one like you."

A long moment of silence fell.

Finally, I said quietly, "Is this from jealously?"

He flushed deeper. "She deserves better than you. You are _nothing_, Lupin. Without that wand, you are nothing. And you should know it."

I crossed my arms. If he was going to curse me, he would have done it by now.

At least, I hoped so.

"And why can she not make this decision by herself?" I demanded. "She gets higher grades than the both of us combined in all of her classes, _and_ she has more classes than us. You won't _let_ her make her own choices? And why is that?"

"She is blinded by her trust in you!"

He hurled the words at me with lightning-speed and aching precision. For the first time, he had put his finger straight on what had troubled me most about my friendship with Sariah – her tendency to be blinded by her affections for those she cared about. Especially for a werewolf like me, one who could so easily tear her throat out and condemn her to everlasting misery.

I struggled to keep my face calm, but it was too late.

"See?" he asked softly, gloatingly, arrogantly. "You already know. She should not be friends with you."

I dipped my fingers back in my pocket, seeking the reassuring presence of my wand. If this came to a duel, I would need to be as fast as I possibly could be – and ready to deal with the aftermath. Especially Sariah's wrath.

"And so will _you_ dictate her friends for her?" I asked cruelly.

He flinched. Ah-ha – so that was a sore spot for him. In his own, twisted way, he did somewhat care for her. As a half-blood, she wasn't a total loss like a half-breed or Muggle-born was.

But I had underestimated him.

"Yes, I will!"

And then his wand appeared and his hand shot up, mouth already forming a spell –

Without thinking, I cast the Shield Charm.

His spell rebounded instantly, although despite his shock, he somehow managed to dodge. With a ruthless sneer, he proceeded to cast more spells, each stronger and darker than the last, until I finally conceded defeat and began to respond in kind. After all, my specialty was Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I knew what was Dark Magic better than any of my classmates. And if Maran felt the need to cast such dark spells, I _had_ to do self-defense of some kind.

After all, Shield Charms didn't block some of the most powerful spells, and one lapse in concentration would mean the end of me –

For the next few moments, it was a confused mess of red, green, and other-colored jets, flying through the room like Filibuster Fireworks gone mad. It also meant a lot of dodging, and for once I was grateful for the reflexes my lycanthropy afforded me. And for the dueling practice I'd received as being one of the Marauders. . .

_Someone hear us, please. . ._

"No one's coming for you, half-breed!" Maran sneered, as if he'd seen into my thoughts. "I cast a Silencing Charm, remember?"

_Half-breed? Does he – _

Suddenly, my entire body flipped out from under me.

With a startled shout, I felt myself being hoisted into the air by my ankle as though I'd been caught with a fishhook and was being reeled in by the fastest mechanical device in existence. And then there I hung, rather undignified and flustered, upside down, blood rushing to my head, robes in disarray, wand nowhere to be found.

_What the . . ._

I had never heard of a spell like this.

Maran smirked, lowering his wand and twirling my own with a superior air. "Nice spell, isn't it? Snape let me in on it."

_Oh great. Just what I need._

I cursed in my head. I had lost my concentration in the most vital of moments, and it had cost me dearly.

_Idiot, idiot, _idiot_!_

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach again. Snape had glimpsed me last full moon, at the edge of the tunnel, and Dumbledore had _said_ he'd sworn him to secrecy, but that didn't stop Snape from sneering at me every time he saw me, knowing I couldn't retaliate and enjoying the hold he had over me. One word from him, and I'd be chased out of Hogwarts with flaming pitchforks, angry parents, and screaming classmates – _if_ I was lucky. At best, they'd snap my wand. At worst, I'd . . . well . . . I wasn't thinking about that.

_So what would stop Snape from telling Maran?_

Maran kicked my wand into a dark corner. "_Silencio_," he added with a flick of his wand, and my throat closed involuntarily as my voice went away. "You can only _hope_ someone finds you before dinner. If not . . . oh well."

He lowered his voice, and suddenly his eyes were gleaming like a maniac.

"And if you say _one word_ to my girlfriend," he breathed, "I'll make sure the whole world knows you're a filthy half-breed. Sweet dreams, _werewolf_."

I stared after him, my heart sinking, as he slammed the door behind him and the lock clicked shut.

Maran knew.

And my life was going to become pure torture after this.

_I only hope someone's watching the Marauders' Map for me_, I thought gloomily. _Or else I _will_ be here for a very long time before someone notices that I'm gone and actually manages to find me._

_I'm such an idiot._


	20. Chapter 20

**_Chapter Twenty_**

**Fifth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I must have passed out shortly afterwards, because the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's care. She had told me that Sariah had alerted the Professors after waiting half an hour for me, and then the Marauders, who had been recruited from the common room, had found me shortly afterward. Professor McGonagall had gotten me down, and then I had been rushed here and had been sleeping for quite a few days.

Memory loss seemed expected, so I hid behind it to avoid questions of my attacker. All the staff knew, of course, what I was – but that didn't mean I wanted the entire hospital wing knowing.

Or to give Maran the bait he needed to spread the truth about me around the school.

Madam Pomfrey, at least, seemed willing to let it go.

James and Sirius were a bit more worried. They hadn't checked the map until after they had realized I was missing, so they didn't know what was going on, but they definitely kept up the guessing. I really shouldn't have held it from them, after all they had done for me, but still . . .

Sariah, though, was by far the most determined.

" – Remus!"

Startled, I jerked upright, only just realizing I had dozed off in the middle of Sariah's increasingly unhappy rant.

Her silver eyes were uncharacteristically angry, although whether it was at me or at herself I couldn't tell. What I _did_ know was that if she was angry at me, I was in the deepest pit of mud yet.

"Are you even _listening_?" she demanded.

"Sariah, I'm _tired_," I protested feebly, although in truth I really did want little more than to clamber back into bed and forget the whole ordeal.

"No, you're not listening," she said with a sigh. Sariah put her face in her hands, her shoulders hunched, her entire form showing the weariness and concern she had for me. It was touching, in a strange way, and it made me startlingly aware of just how precious a friend she was – even more so since she knew I was a werewolf. It was almost enough to make me guilty enough to lose my cool and blurt out everything.

Almost.

But as much as I would have liked to tell her and get it off my chest, I could not, _would not_ come between Sariah and her boyfriend.

I didn't like him, yes. But _she_ did. And she was my friend.

And for all the riches in the world – heck, even for a cure for lycanthropy – I would not betray that friendship, because she had been one of the few to stand by me despite everything and during anything.

I would not tell her.

Better, I judged, for her to be annoyed with me than furious at Maran.

Of course, my reasoning wasn't entirely as altruistic as it seemed. Deep down, I knew that Maran's threat rang true with me, and it was a good chunk of the reason why I stayed stubbornly silent no matter what they said. Sariah would stand by me; James, Sirius, and Peter would stand by me; even _Dumbledore_ would stand by me.

But, heavens, would they be in so much _trouble_ if people found out.

And I really did like being here, at Hogwarts, much too much to risk that just for a few moments peace.

"Why won't you tell me?"

Startled, I focused on her. "There is nothing to tell," I lied, swallowing hard against the instinct to just _tell her everything already_. Good thing I'd had so much practice fighting the wolf's instincts, else I'd have lost the battle.

Sariah's eyes narrowed. "You're a bad liar, Remus," she said lightly.

"If I was a good liar, then we'd have issues, wouldn't we?"

"True. . . But I think – hey!" She eyed me indignantly. "Stop deflecting the question, would you?"

"I'm not deflecting anything. _You_ went and ran with it."

"Only because _you_ offered it."

"As _I_ recall, _you_ brought in the 'liar' part," I retorted smoothly, beyond thankful that she was playing along and not hitting me over the head. It meant she was calmed down. Well, at least slightly. I'd be getting a lecture later, though. "And if your memory is faulty – well, how else are you supposed to bring anything into a conversation? Act it out? Play guess-and-check? Mime it?"

Sariah stared for about three seconds before she lost it.

Then she doubled over, tears streaming down her face, the once-tense shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Concerned, I shifted closer to pound her on the back, trying to decide if any of the spells we'd learned would help in a situation like this. Perhaps a Hiccupping Charm to help alleviate that, if she got any. Or –

"You – are – _despicable_," she choked out.

I blinked and did a double-take. "Since when did I turn into Sirius?" I demanded crossly.

"Very funny, Remus," she said dryly. "But even though you are one of the milder Marauders, you still _are_ a Marauder. And I am not forgetting that. Ever."

"Pity. . . Actually, no, probably a good thing. Or else one day I'd do something very nice and thoughtful and you would die of shock."

She eyed me curiously. "Why?" she inquired. "You've done nice things before. . ."

"And then proceeded to prank you."

"Well, yes, but – Oh. Should I be moving to the other end of the bed about now before you hex me or dump water on my head?" she asked warily, leaning away from me as though I had a bucket in my hand right in front of her. "And, more importantly, should I be screaming for Madam Pomfrey to bring sedating potions whilst tackling you and dumping the bucket on _your_ head?"

"Where on earth am I getting a _bucket_?" I demanded, bewildered and amused by how quickly this was going out of control.

She cracked up again, and this time showed no signs of stopping.

"Excuse – me – I've – "

"Go," I said, pushing at her. The last thing I needed was a hysterical Sariah on my hands. It was a good thing she was laughing, but . . . If Maran was –

"Hello, there, Lupin."

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
It took about five minutes for me to finally stop laughing – with some unexpected help, of course. Dayn showed up and helped stop the hiccups and hysterics, and only afterwards asked what was up.

"I was visiting Remus," I told him honestly. "I know you don't like him, but I'm not dropping all my friends just because of you."

"I know," he said with a sigh.

Then he excused himself to see Madam Pomfrey – "I am _not_ discussing the class where I got it," he said firmly, "because you will certainly not believe me" – and had left me in the hallway with a quick kiss on the cheek and friendly wave.

It took about five seconds after that for everything to click.

I had seen Remus talking to Dayn moments before he left the library . . . and then he had never returned, and we'd started up a search, and then he'd been found unconscious and dangling from his ankle in that _Levicorpus_ spell that was becoming quickly very popular this year. They'd gotten him down, and Remus had said noting to the identity of his attacker.

Remus had never really trusted or liked Dayn. But he had respected Dayn – refrained from nasty comments (as Slytherins were really the only ones that could provoke such ungentlemanly manners) and kept a distance.

Dayn never had. His jealously of my close friendship with Remus had been obvious from almost the first time he had seen us together studying.

And now Remus was alone with him . . .

I whirled and burst back into the hospital wing – and found Dayn looming ominously over Remus, his wand out, his voice low and threatening, his eyes narrowed and dangerous. Remus didn't seem like he was fighting back; his wand lay untouched on his dresser.

But his eyes . . .

His eyes were flickering again, from blue to that primal green-gold.

I reacted without second thought. In human form, Remus couldn't do much. But he could hurt them both, if he let the wolfish instincts take over in response to this challenge.

"_Protego!_"

My Shield Charm erupted between the two with enough force to send Dayn skidding backwards with a startled shout.

I moved to Remus and tossed him his wand.

"Sariah! What – "

"If I go overboard, please hit me with something," I said curtly.

"Sariah – "

I ignored his pleas. I had put up with Dayn's slandering of Remus because it had been just that – slandering. _Attacking_ Remus, though . . . That was crossing the line. A line I had allowed to exist by tolerating the slandering. In effect, it was _my_ fault Remus had been attacked.

"Sariah, what _are_ you doing?" Dayn demanded, stepping towards me with enough menace that I thought I could hear the softest of growls in warning.

And touching as it was, it also showed just how dangerously close Remus was getting to the edge. He hadn't reacted so since we had been attacked a year ago, and he was a great deal farther from the full moon this time. I had to get this over with, and get it over with as quickly as possible, because this was _way_ overdue.

"_You_!" I snarled, leveling my wand at him. "You attacked Remus, didn't you?"

His face transformed – not with fear, not with remorse, not with even recognition – but with disdain. "How can you even _think_ I'd do something like – "

"I don't need to think. I _know_." I sighed. "How could you, Dayn?"

Silence fell.

Dayn's eyes flickered, and for the first time, he looked a little discomforted. But before he could speak, Remus interrupted.

He threw back the blankets and stood, reaching out to touch my back. "Sariah. . . Let the past remain in the past," he urged. "What is done is done. Please, leave it be. There was no permanent damage done."

"Not this time," I agreed, crossing my arms. "But what about next time? And the time after that?"

He smiled slightly. "I'm not sure whether I should be upset or touched."

"Don't ask me."

I smiled back at him, suddenly eternally grateful. It was so strange. . . He was so kind, and forgiving, and just _gentle_ – a far cry from the powerful werewolf he turned into every full moon. It was like because he had been bitten that all the possible negative characteristics he could ever have had been turned into his wolf side, and therefore he was free to be as altruistic, as giving, as caring a person could ever be.

"Sariah, I didn't do it."

I turned sharply to him, glaring. After Remus's display, I felt little sympathy or emotion for Dayn Maran.

"Go away," I said coldly. "Or I'll call for Madam Pomfrey and report you right now."

"But, Sariah – "

I pointed my wand straight at him. "_Get out._"

He stowed his wand away, seething. But he could do nothing short of hexing me, and if he did, Remus would jump in immediately, and now that he had been caught off guard once, Dayn had no other secret tricks up his sleeve, and Remus was therefore unquestionably the better the dueler.

"You'll regret this, one day, Sariah," Dayn said as he paused at the door. "Hanging out with a half-breed."

Then he was gone.

"Sariah . . . I . . ."

"_No_, Remus," I said sharply. "No apologies of any kind from you. This was not your fault at all."

He sighed, but a reluctant smile appeared anyways.

"Is that why you didn't say anything? You were afraid Dayn would tell people?"

"In a way."

"I wouldn't have stopped being your friend."

The smile grew unforced. "I know."

I threw my arms around his neck, grateful for his friendship beyond words. In so many ways, he was like a solidly rooted tree in a windstorm – and for some inexplicable reason, he had chosen to honor me with shelter beneath the protectiveness of his presence. No thanks would ever be enough for that – friendship was far too small a price for such a valuable gift. Yet it was all I had to give to him. And, I swore to myself, I'd keep giving it. Always.


	21. Chapter 21

**_Chapter Twenty-One_**

**Sixth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
Sixth year got off to a very interesting start – in more ways than one, and for more people than just me.

The first thing that happened was that, of course, we received our O.W.L. results over the summer, and there was a lot of mixed tears and happiness. For me, though, it was mainly tears. Sure, I'd gotten all "Outstanding"s on every exam except for History of Magic and Potions; I got "Exceed Expectations" on those. I was surprised to know that I'd scored so well in Astronomy – but then again, it _had_ been right before a full moon, and my senses were always sharpest then. That was the happy part. The sad part was that I knew, no matter how high my grades, no one was going to let me enter any job.

Sariah fared about the same as me on the O.W.L.s – "Outstanding" on most, "Exceeds Expectations" on a few, and one or two "Acceptable". And I did indeed give into the temptation to steal her results and make her chase me all over the house for it.

The second thing that happened was that for the first time the Marauders got together over the summer, and James and Sirius made me write down all of our recollections about our monthly wanderings during the full moon. Of course, they refused to tell me why, except that Sirius had finally run away from his pureblood maniacs of a family.

The third happened at the platform come September 1.

Sariah had vanished to see to Lily Evans, her long time friend. I hadn't been surprised at that. She and Lily wrote to each other constantly during the summer . . . if Sariah remembered to, of course.

What _did_ surprise me was how, when loading the luggage onto the train, James appeared out of the smoke beside us. It usually took two people to lift a full Hogwarts trunk, of course, and usually between Lily, Sariah, and me we all got our stuff on.

"Evans," James said, in the special voice he reserved for Lily.

"Potter," Lily replied flatly.

I heaved the luggage up as Sariah shoved it. As we did so, I scooted closer to her and whispered quietly, "How long?"

Sariah rolled her eyes as she threw back her hair. "I say about two minutes," she murmured. "If anything, Lily stands him far _less_ than she did before he jinxed Snape."

James had calmed down a bit after he had dangled Snape upside down and pulled down his pants in front of a jeering crowd after the Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. He had thought that when Snape had insulted Lily by calling her a "Mudblood", she might come round and see how much better James was. Arrogant toerag he might be – but he did not, as Snape did, look down on Muggle-borns and half-bloods . . . or even half-breeds. But Lily had still insulted him, still threatened to hex him, still turned away and left.

At first he had been furious. Now I was hoping he might cam down . . . maybe even get in less detentions than before, if that possible.

And yet, even as Sariah and I watched, James helped Lily lift her trunk in and they actually talked – _talked_ – before he said something, she smiled (_smiled!_) and he walked away.

"Wow," Sariah muttered. "Impressive."

I blinked, equally stunned. Before, Lily could barely stand to be within ten feet of James. Now . . .

_Maybe James finally learned to shelve whatever was bothering Lily. Or maybe she's mellowed now that she's no longer so close to Snivellus. Or maybe a mix of both. But whatever it is, hopefully it'll stop James from being such a detention daredevil for a bit and give everyone a break._

Sariah tugged at my hand. "Come _on_, Remus, or we'll be late!"

My parents kissed us both good-bye, and then it was off to Hogwarts. We were veterans by now, so it was easy to find a compartment and plunk down in it. Or, rather, _I_ found a compartment and plunked down and waited for the rest of the Marauders to turn up. Sariah vanished with Lily, as usual.

For once, I found it slightly disconcerting.

Before she had come over to live with us, we had usually only been together during classes or after the full moon or sometimes during Hogsmeade visits. Now, I had grown used to being around Sariah almost constantly. Two summers of her presence at my home meant that it was rare that Sariah and I _weren't_ together.

Now, I had to get adjusted to just being friends – inside school and out.

In some ways, though, it was relieving. Now that school was back, Sariah wouldn't have to be sent away every full moon for her protection and come back seeing the full nature of the monster that I was. I wouldn't have to fear for her safety if the wolf caught her scent and decided to go after her.

So, yes, in some ways, it was better.

Just then, Sirius, James, and Peter all burst into the compartment, startling me so much that I nearly fell off my seat.

"Remus!"

"Moony!"

"You'll never guess what!"

I flinched, tempted to cover my ears. The full moon was approaching, and their voices were amplified almost ridiculously loud. In fact, their whispering could have passed for a normal conversation by werewolf standards.

Which they, of course, knew, judging by the smug smirks on their faces.

"What?" I asked, half irritated, half curious.

Sirius shoved a piece of parchment in my hand – old, crinkly, dog-eared, and in general looking pretty much like any paper that survived Sirius's tender mercies. I flipped it over, and then unfolded its crooked panels; nothing. No words, no secrets, no _nothing_. In other words, completely and utterly empty – and therefore useless.

_Why would they give this to me?_

"Um . . . what do I need with this old piece of rubbish?" I asked.

"Rubbish!" James and Sirius echoed tragically, horrified expressions on their faces as though I'd just called them goody two-shoes.

_Oh, this can't be good._

"It's just an old piece of paper," I protested, already feeling my stomach sink. This was some new plot, and quite frankly, I didn't know whether to be amazed or exasperated that they already had one and the year had barely started.

James's face lit up with a sly grin. "Ah, and _there_ is where you are wrong, Moony. Padfoot, you do the honors, please."

Sirius pulled out his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
"What took you so long?" I whispered.

Remus shrugged, already digging into his steak and mashed potatoes like it was his last meal on Earth. But his expression was _too_ bland for me; I knew something was up. But he was good enough that I didn't know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Could be both really. Or neither.

"Liar."

Remus sighed. "It was nothing."

I eyed the rest of the Marauders. For once, James and Sirius weren't joking around, or teasing Lily, or cooking up new plots. They were just talking quietly, shooting strange glances at Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Remus. Even Peter seemed unusually grave and silent, just tucking in his food methodically as though he was a robot occupied with other matters.

"The behavior of your fellows tells me otherwise."

Remus put down his fork. "Do you really need to know?"

For the first time, the competitive, solitary nature of the wolf made itself known to me. His eyes didn't flash and he did not tense, but I could almost feel the tension in the air – and the not-so-subtle reminder that beneath us all a primal beast lurked. Remus just happened to have a true, monthly manifestation of that beast. It had polarized him, and he controlled the struggle well. But still, there it lurked.

"I would _like_ to," I amended gently. "But seriously, Remus, you look really upset. What's wrong with you?"

His resistance seemed to crumble at that, the wolf fading away to return to Remus. He glanced at the rest of the Marauders, who for once were paying no attention to us, and then at Lily, who was chattering away with Mary Macdonald, and then finally seemed willing to speak.

"Professor Dumbledore wanted to talk to me."

My heart started to race. _What – Why would Dumbledore – Oh. Oh Lord. Please tell me it's not about his lycanthropy. Please tell me it's _not_ about his lycanthropy. It's been six years – surely they can't change their mind and throw him out onto the street, and break his wand, and deny him his rights _now_, after all this time?_

"What? Why?"

My voice trembled, and I knew I had failed to conceal my apprehension.

Remus seemed to understand immediately. "It's not . . . _that_," he reassured me. "But . . . some person named Damocles is experimenting with some potions to see if he can cure . . . us. The only thing is that he needs – "

It sunk in with a horrifying blow to me.

"They want to – "

Remus made an odd movement with his hand, and then suddenly my voice shut up.

"Please keep your voice down," he implored me.

I swallowed. In the heat of my fury and sorrow, I had forgotten the key rule: _Never speak about Remus's "furry little problem" in public._ I would have to relearn control in some areas, it seemed.

He pocketed his wand.

I found my voice again, but with difficulty. "But . . ." I swallowed again, hating the strange dryness in my throat from the silent Silencing Charm Remus had instinctively cast against me. "But why . . . why would they pick someone underage?" I asked, bewildered and wary. "Surely they do not intend you to truly undergo . . . well . . . the . . ."

Remus shook his head between scoops of chocolate pudding into his mouth. "No," he mumbled, partly because he was quiet and partly due to the food he was trying to keep in his mouth.

"No what?"

He sighed and put down his spoon, wisely giving up his endeavor of eating whilst we held our conversation.

"No, not any full experiments," he explained. "It'll simply be him taking some observations and me trying some of his attempts at making potions to note the effects and try to . . . find a cure. If I agree."

_On one hand . . . Lord . . . if they find a _cure_ . . . _

Remus would be cured. He'd be normal. He could _live_ – be an Auror, date a girl, marry, have a family. He would be freed of the prison the wolf trapped him in.

And yet . . .

_But these things are so . . . _dangerous_,_ another part of me argued. _Dangerous. Werewolves have _died_ sometimes from these experimental potions. They're so temperamental, and with the added unpredictably of the wolf and the reaction to the potion and the mix of the different combinations of ingredients. . . There are so many things that could go wrong._

"You could be cured," I said slowly.

His eyes flickered, and he pushed the remaining pieces of candy around his plate. Obviously, he had the same thoughts as I did running through my head – the cure versus the probable death, and the pros and cons.

"Have you spoken with – "

"Not yet," Remus said absently. "I want to think things out for myself first."

I sighed and touched his arm absently. "Remus, please . . . be careful. Don't . . ." And my throat closed.

Remus looked at me, and covered my hand with his own, and smiled sadly.

"I know," he murmured quietly. "I know."


	22. Chapter 22

**_Chapter Twenty-Two_**

**Sixth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
Remus eventually made the decision I had always, somewhere deep down, known he would – he chose to participate in the trials. He wanted a cure. I had told him over and over he wasn't a monster, and while his conscious mind might have accepted that _I_ did not see him as a monster, his subconscious persisted in the fear that he was a monster anyways.

I, meanwhile, just kept my mouth shut and my face turned away so that Remus would not see my fears or worries or even tears about the effects of the trials.

Like when he staggered into the common room all beat up.

Or when he drifted lazily and dreamily and bumped into things

Or when he was so exhausted that he slumped into a chair with a raging headache and touchy temper.

And as far as I knew, no cure was found. Remus simply continued to suffer as they experimented, observed, tweaked, and did everything else they possibly could to try and find a cure, unlikely as it was.

Remus bore with it as best he could, and far better than I ever could have. But the side effects did make themselves known. Sometimes, he would be wearier than usual after the full moon; once, he fell asleep in Transfiguration and could not be waked – we had to send him to the hospital wing then. Other times, he would be extremely irritable and touchy, snapping at the slightest question, as if the aggressiveness of the wolf was retained instead of removed.

As a result, the Marauders and a few of his other friends silently made at least one pact where we all cooperated, despite our disagreements – there was always at least one person at Remus's side, and a few others watching.

Just to be safe.

The only exception was on a full moon night, where the best we could do was to escort him to the hospital wing and then escort him back to Gryffindor tower afterwards. And I had drawn the short straw tonight – not that I minded, of course.

From the moment he walked in the door, I knew it was going to be one of the weary days.

I sprang up immediately, dropping my History of Magic book onto the floor, and ran to relieve Madam Pomfrey of Remus, who sagged against me as if he had no strength at all. She nodded once at me – she was used to, and approved, our protective vigils of Remus by now – and vanished to retrieve the normal doses of potions and questions to give to him.

I walked Remus to an empty bed and got him settled, to recover and rest before we moved him back to Gryffindor tower.

He stirred faintly, and I perched myself on his bed, worried.

"Sariah?"

His voice was scarily faint, as if his life was drying up with every full moon. He looked so pale that he made _ice_ seem warm and alive and vibrant in comparison. And his scars . . . some fresh and raw and red, others pink and angry . . . They seemed all the more vivid because of the backdrop, and my heart sank a little more.

But I didn't let it show. Remus needed my support. Especially now, of all times.

I reached for his hand. "I drew the short stick tonight," I told him, smiling slightly to hide the worry and pain. "But I'm sure James and Sirius are waiting in the common room to get you to bed."

He closed his eyes. "No doubt."

"Remus – hey. Don't fall asleep yet," I cajoled gently. "You still have some unfinished business, remember?"

"Hmm. Disgusting," he muttered.

Despite myself, I giggled. It was so typical Remus – practical yet humorous, all rolled somehow into one.

"Not funny."

"I'm sorry. . . Maybe you should skip class tomorrow," I said, frowning down at him.

"No. . . Can't . . . miss . . . so much."

"Remus! You can barely walk! How are you supposed to do _anything_? You'd fall asleep in class again and simply invite more questions. Why can't you pretend you're still ill – the teachers know, they'll be fine; and we can get your schoolwork."

His head flopped back and worth weakly on the pillow, a faint attempt at "no".

I sighed. It was no use arguing with him in this state, and yet for some reason I still did. "You're so stubborn, Remus."

A smile curved his lips as he opened his eyes and looked at me. "You . . . aren't?"

Madam Pomfrey bustled out just then, hands full, and I stood to assist her. Between the two of us, we got Remus into a sitting position and then steadied him as he downed three or four potions to help him sleep, recover, and heal. Then she quizzed him from a set of questions that I assumed was from Damocles, the man in charge. Finally, about thirty-five minutes later, we were free to go.

"Keep him quiet, and get him to bed," she advised me quietly as Remus attempted to get himself out of bed. "And if he runs into any problems . . ."

I nodded. She had told us all what to do in case Remus reacted negatively to whatever had been in the experimental cures.

"Should he skip class tomorrow?"

"Probably," she sighed. "If you can convince him."

Remus looked up sharply. "I am _not_ skipping class tomorrow," he objected. "I've already missed so much because of this – I don't need to skip anymore."

To my relief, his voice seemed stronger, and he was at least able to walk without help. The potions and the transformation had taken their toll, but thankfully he seemed to be recovering quickly. The only downside was that if he _did_ recover, we had no argument to force him to rest for another day instead of walking around like a half-asleep zombie.

He refused to let me help him back to the common room, so our progress was slower, and by the time he sank into a chair by the fireplace he was exhausted again.

"You're tired."

"You would be too."

"You need rest."

He yawned, closing his eyes. "I'll sleep tonight."

"You could sleep through tomorrow too," I hinted, knowing it was already a lost battle, but giving it one last go.

Remus seemed to know when the battle was won. "Give me the notes, Sariah."

I sighed. Here, I was going to draw the line. I'd let him go through class tomorrow, if he refused to listen to the common sense we offered. But he was not going to stay up studying. He needed rest. He could always review during breakfast or even right before class. He was smart enough; he'd be perfectly fine.

"No," I said firmly. "You need rest. Tonight. We can review tomorrow."

He groaned. "Fine. Whatever."

I drew my wand and conjured a blanket and pillow. Remus accepted them with a quiet sigh, and within five minutes, he was fast asleep.

In fact, I was pretty much dozing myself when someone called my name.

"Wha . . ."

I looked around blearily, rubbing at my eyes, and my vision cleared just in time for me to see Lily walking down the stairs, fastening a dressing gown and seeming all too awake and aware for past midnight. Even more surprising was how she didn't seem the least surprised by the fact that we were half sleeping in the common room so late with not even an attempt at pretending to have fallen asleep studying, because my books and notes were still in my bag.

"Lily?"

She walked around the chair Remus was sleeping in, and her brow furrowed with concern. "Is he all right? Or is it just another side effect?"

I blinked. While it was true that Remus rarely participated in pranks against her, as usually the only person he could be stirred against was perhaps Snape, she did not appreciate the rest of the Marauders, and I had always assumed that she considered Remus half-guilty by association. Her teasing of me came from her matchmaking streak – a far less painful way to tease her classmates than the ones employed by the Marauders.

And it wasn't like Remus was announcing to everyone what he was going through – or even what he was – and I knew _I_ had never told her, out of respect for Remus's wishes for privacy.

"You know?"

Lily nodded. "I guessed," she admitted. "Just like you. We were assigned together for the first Herbology class, remember?"

"So he told you?"

"Well . . . he realized that something was up when he said I was 'acting differently' around him. So he decided to just tell me. And I would have found out anyways; I'm a prefect too, remember? I do his duties when he's . . . unavailable."

I sighed, sinking back into my chair and wishing for next week, when Remus would be back to normal – at least until the next full moon.

"And the experimental trials?"

Lily waved a dismissive hand. "Professor Dumbledore introduced all the prefects, and the Head Boy and Girl, to Damocles," she explained. "He was an interesting man to talk to, to say the least. I liked him."

"And you went to the library and – "

"Yes."

I sighed. "You make me look like a blind fool," I complained. "I didn't realize until fourth year, when . . . well, you know what happened then."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me? Surely you would have realized what it meant when – "

" – you stayed up late every month, and started actually cooperating with the Marauders sometimes?" she finished. "I didn't connect the dots either, actually. Not until Remus mentioned you in passing, and I heard about the experimental trials. And . . . And I didn't know. Remus is very private – we both know that. And he kept his secret from the others for so long that I was never quite sure who knew when and who did not. I just didn't want to risk it."

I gave a relieved smile. "I have the same excuse."

We sat in companionable silence, staring into the flames and checking Remus every once in a while. Then I remembered –

"Hey, Lily?"

"Hmm?"

"What were you and James talking about on the train?"

For the first time, Lily didn't brush it aside or start ranting about the shortcomings of the arrogant toerag James Potter.

Instead, she actually _blushed_. Lily Evans. Prefect. Number 2 archenemy of the Marauders. Blushed. _Blushed_. Blushed a faint yet clearly visible pink that clashed terribly with her long red hair and emerald eyes.

I pounced.

"You're starting to like him, aren't you?" I teased, coming fully awake for the first time. I had never had a chance to tease Lily before; she was always teasing me.

The hunter had turned into the hunted.

Lily blushed even more. "No! He was just helping me, that was all. And he wanted help on Potions."

It was a semi-good excuse. Lily was _excellent_ in Potions – Snape was now the only person to come even close. And there was no way James would ask for help from Snape, his number 1 archenemy. The only problem was that I knew Lily too well now after six years, and she never was more embarrassed than now, and if it really had been nothing, she would have dismissed him truly and authentically.

Not like now.

"You like him!" I crowed.

For the first time, Remus stirred uneasily from his sleep.

"Be quiet!" Lily hissed at me, her cheeks now almost the same vivid red as her hair.

Seeing as I wished to live through the night, I stifled my giggles and prayed, as Lily did, that Remus didn't wake. Unfortunately, as usual, my prayers just weren't paid attention to – or perhaps they were, and the heavens were deliberately ignoring them to annoy me.

Remus's eyes fluttered open, and I remembered at the last minute how sensitive his senses were before, during, and after the full moon. In other words, I could have giggled and gotten away with it anyways, because he had probably woken up way before then.

He frowned. "Sariah? Lily? What . . ."

"It's nothing. I'm sorry, we shouldn't have woken you – you need the rest. . ."

He shrugged, pushing himself laboriously into a sitting position, but only got halfway there before Lily and I shared one glance and moved over to help. He sighed, but he tolerated it, which was a first.

"I needed to get upstairs into a proper bed anyways," he said mildly, yawning aas he spoke. "Good night."

"Night," Lily and I chimed as we headed up the staircase.

Lily grinned mischievously at me. "I think _someone_ definitely has a crush."

"Be quiet, Lily. Remus is just a friend."

"Uh-huh. Then why – "

A loud crash interrupted our conversation, and without even thinking about it, both of us whirled and ran down the stairs, wands out and defensive spells and powerful curses dancing around our heads. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had never invaded Hogwarts – it was said that he was too scared of Professor Dumbledore – but one could never be 100% sure in these dark, dangerous times when Dark Magic was in the hands of evil wizards like You-Know-Who.

The common room was empty. Nothing.

I lowered my wand, frowning. Nothing was out of place – but we hadn't imagined that crash. We both had heard it.

"Sariah!"

I jumped at Lily's shout. She was crouching at the edge of the boys' staircase, horror and fear on her face, her wand lying forgotten on the floor by her side. Then she moved, ever so slightly, bending down to retrieve whatever had caused the panic – and I froze.

It was Remus.

And he wouldn't wake.


	23. Chapter 23

**_Chapter Twenty-Three_**

**Sixth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I floundered in darkness. There were no spots of recognition, and certainly no flashes of light to signify "the end". But if I wasn't dead, where the heck was I?

I cast my mind for something, anything, that I could anchor to.

Because without an anchor, I could wander around in this darkness for the rest of my physical life, just . . . just waiting and waiting and waiting for my body – the physical manifestation of my lost soul – to shrivel and perish, cutting my links to the world and allowing me to die.

But why wasn't I dead already?

A growl sounded, so loudly that if I could jump, I would have shot five feet in the air.

_Moony._

The wolf. I usually hated it – shoved it deep down into a dark prison that only the full moon broke.

And yet now it might be my only hope of salvation.

_Human_, it growled.

I cast my mind towards it. It was like a glowing orb with tendrils trailing away into the darkness, but something I knew it meant no danger.

_Moony?_ I whispered.

The orb glowed brighter. _Get back here, pup, and reclaim our body_, it snarled.

_I . . . I can't._

The wolf snarled again, louder. _Fool. Why do you still fight me? I am you, and you are me, and you _must_ learn to live with it, or else we will both die._

_I am no monster like you!_

_You are just as much an animal as me, save you stand on two legs instead of four and talk in a different language_, the wolf snapped. _Now reclaim your body!_

I couldn't. I had barely enough energy to speak, much less to fight my way back through the wearying darkness to a life filled with ever more weariness and pain and suffering. In fact . . . why should I bother? What was left? What could I possibly look forward to?

_Get back here!_ the wolf roared. _We _will_ live!_

And just like that, the darkness swam as the wolf's strength surged into me. I cried out – if that was possible – as pain flooded into me to. The wolf never controlled me, and I never used its strength, unless it was the full moon. And yet somehow, apparently, I could use its strength, much as I used its senses.

And I woke.

_Ugh._

I could have sworn that I had just shifted back into human form after the painful transformation, because every symptom I felt sure qualified for it - my head was throbbing, my stomach was in twisted knots, my hands were twitching, my knees were shaking, my throat was dry as desert dust, my muscles stung as though bees had been set upon them, my blood was boiling in my veins, and I had just woken up.

_This does not bode well._

I started to force my eyes to open, but when a mind-numbing headache racked my brain, I gave up.

_Oh, heavens above, what happened?_ I wondered.

I had never in my life felt so ill after a transformation, and each stood out vividly in my memories, even though my first had been when I was only five years old. But I would never be able to forget that pain as my muscles and bones and skin shredded and transformed and _burned_ twice that night, turning me into a monster.

This time the transformation was vivid as well. But I could remember nothing big. I had ripped off the leg of a chair – _I think_ – and perhaps bit myself a few . . . hundred . . . times, but other than that. . .

But after I returned to the common room with Sariah, my memory faltered.

And failed.

Frowning, I concentrated on the blank spot, but nothing came. My memory was usually very clear just before, during, and just after transformation – I was in so much pain I couldn't help but remember – but now I had . . . nothing.

My worry rose.

_Something is very wrong. . ._

Yet it was so . . . so very hard . . . to form even . . . one . . . single . . . thought. . .

_I can just . . . slip away . . . slip away and never come back . . ._

But Sariah . . . and my parents . . . They would be so worried. The wolf was usually so strong that I was rarely troubled by illnesses or colds, for it boosted my immune systems and attacked any invaders with vigor behind normal white blood cells. It was the only thing I was grateful for, usually; it would be awful to be a sneezing werewolf.

_Sariah._

One of the most stubborn girls I had ever met. One of my only girl friends. Not girlfriend. But in a lot of ways better than a girlfriend. No problems with awkwardness, for one. And no chasing.

"Remus?"

_Either I'm hallucinating . . . or . . ._

"Is he awake?"

"No idea . . . allergic . . . maybe . . . one more try . . ."

Something brushed against my lifeless, cold fingers, and a spark of warmth flared. The wolf had no trouble recognizing who was responsible.

_Sariah._

"Remus?" A pause. "Remus, your parents are here. Come on, wake up, please." Even lower, "Please don't let us down."

"Remus?"

Two voices spoke as one. My heart swelled, and the wolf grumbled. It could recognize the scent of my parents with no problem. There was no threat from them, no need to be on guard, yet still the wolf insisted on it. I sighed and gave in; I couldn't fight it anyways. I had no energy. . .

"Remus, please."

_Sariah._

And I found that I did have energy. Energy enough to gather my strength, steel my body and mind, and force my eyes to open, just a little slit. . .

"Remus!"

Sariah sprang to me, her silver eyes shining, my hand so tightly gripped between both of hers that I thought I was going to lose my circulation – and my hand. My parents gasped, catching on about half a second later and rushing to my side, my mother brushing back my hair, half-sobbing, as my father beamed through watery eyes.

"How do you feel?" my mother asked.

I tried to move my lips. Nothing.

_What was the point of this again?_ I wondered vaguely. Darkness was already appearing at the edges of my eyes – why fight? Why . . .

_Live, you idiot pup!_

The wolf pounced again, _shoving_ at me, and words burst through my lips.

"Terrible," I croaked.

The wolf subsided, growling, to the back of my mind. For some reason . . . it was . . . _concerned_ . . . about me. It _wanted_ me to live. And it was giving me the strength to hold on while my body mended.

_Our body, pup._ It chuckled darkly. _Two souls in one body._

Madam Pomfrey pushed my mother aside, her face unusually serious. "Lupin," she said briskly, "you had an allergic reaction. You'll need at least a week or two to rest – and I mean, _no_ fooling around with the rest of those friends of yours – whatever they call themselves. And you'll do as I say, you understand? No hiding any symptoms. Otherwise you might find yourself keeling over again sometime soon."

_Stubborn human._

Irritation finally did it. _Would you be quiet? If you can, that is._

The wolf barked in laughter. _Quiet? Human, I am quiet for all but one night a month. And you ask me if I can be quiet?_

_You're not quiet now_, I observed.

_You needed my help._ It hesitated. _And I needed yours. I refuse to die because of your weak will._

_I am not weak!_

_Prove it_, the wolf challenged. _Prove it, human – prove you are the alpha, and then perhaps I will call you a wolf and not a pup. Otherwise you are a scrawny pup not worth a second glance and one easily challenged – and defeated._

_How?_

The wolf chuckled again, but did not answer.

I gave up.

"Are you tired?" my mother asked.

I nodded – well, more like nudged my head a little up and a little down. Best I could do in my weakened state. But it was enough. My mother hugged Sariah once, promised to visit when the next day, and swept out with my father.

Sariah turned back to me. "Are you hurting anywhere?"

"No."

She sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. We've been so worried. . ."

"I'm sorry."

My voice cracked. Hmm. Perhaps it was best to keep to a very limited repertoire until I was well-rested.

_You think?_

I didn't even bother to grace the wolf with an answer. Now that the shock was wearing off, it was slightly unnerving to talk to the wolf so freely. Usually he only made himself known when the full moon was about to rise, and even then, we didn't talk; it was more of me losing consciousness and screaming in pain as the wolf took complete control of my mind and body.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." Sariah frowned at me. "Remus, are you all right? You looked . . . unnerved."

"Fine."

I didn't need someone to confirm I was a nutcase. Maybe when I got stronger and got some more rest, this hallucination would go away. . .

_Hallucination!_ the wolf raged.

I shut it out.

Sariah raised an eyebrow, perhaps sensing my mental debate. "Sure."

"Just . . ."

"I know, I know, just let it go," she said. "For now, because you're weak and Madam Pomfrey's still getting the allergen out of your system. Until then, please don't let it bother you so much that you stay up hours writing up theories."

I had to grin at that, and only barely kept from laughing, which would have caused unbearable pain.

"Visiting time's up," Madam Pomfrey called.

Sariah took one look at her and sighed. "Bye, Remus." And then she was gone, sweeping out of the hospital wing with a backwards smile thrown over her shoulder.

I closed my eyes and sank deeper into the pillows.

_Don't get lost again, pup._

_Would you mind clearing off for, I don't know, another three weeks? So I can perhaps get a little sleep?_

The wolf coughed a growling bark of laughter. _I never clear off. I am part of you._

_Go away._

_As you wish._ The wolf laughed again. _Until next time._


	24. Chapter 24

**_Chapter Twenty-Four_**

**Sixth Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
It took Remus over a week to recover from whatever allergic reaction or poisoning he had incurred. It wasn't an easy week. Remus had not been the only werewolf who had signed up who had suffered adverse reactions, and now they were starting to become discouraged. Damocles was getting uneasy too; it had been over half a year and there had still been no results. He had found out how to make the werewolves stronger, more aggressive, more passive, in pain, unhappy, restless – everything _but_ the cure.

And it was the cure that the werewolves wanted, not random experiments.

So the man was under amazing pressure to find a way out. And the latest news of werewolves going into comas due to the newest batch of experiment didn't help any.

Of course, there was one other side effect too – news, perhaps, that was just as unwelcome and just as startling.

But it took a long while to get out to Damocles, and even longer to tell everyone else.

Like me.

And of course I didn't find out the easy way. As usual. Actually, it took nearly another month before I finally found out when Remus's control, formidable as it was, slipped and he made the mistake that told me something was off.

Professor Slughorn had decided to host one of his monthly – and sometimes weekly – Slug Club parties. The only difference was that he also invited those who had proceeded with the N.E.W.T. Potions class. And unfortunately, we were unable to wriggle out of it, no matter how good our excuses. Slughorn _insisted_ we be there – ostensibly to relax, but really, we all knew, to show us off and make connections and get the credit.

Lily dragged me into Hogsmeade to purchase a dress, and it was only very reluctantly that I actually bought one. Hers was a stunning shade of emerald green, to match her eyes, with translucent embroidered sleeves and daring figure. Mine was a lot more simple – aquamarine with a sash and sleeves of silver-blue.

Needless to say, I was a rather unhelpful and complaining victim.

Lily lavished her attention on me for all of the fifteen minutes it took to make a decision, force me into the dress and shoes, and mess with my hair and make-up.

"Really, Lily, it's just a party," I said tartly as she tugged my hair into whatever shape she wanted. "I don't see the big fuss about it. There's no one to impress – if anything, they are probably expecting just a bunch of rowdy teenagers snogging in the corner and staggering off giggling and drunk."

Lily peered at me in the mirror, smirking. "Aren't you a right little ray of sunshine?" As she spoke, she gave a vicious tug on my hair.

"Ow! Lily!"

She shrugged and tapped my head once. "There," she said, satisfied. "All set."

I sighed and looked in the mirror. There would be no getting her to back down now. Lily had braided both of the sides and brought them together with a simple bright blue flower clasp, allowing the rest to fall down my back. I scowled, knowing the headache it would be to get all of it out after the party, even if I used magic to help. Lily had no such troubles; her hair naturally fell in pretty little waves down her back with no need of magical or Muggle help. And her self-confidence and poise made would have made her a queen even in rags.

Lily sat beside me. "Oh, stop complaining."

"I didn't say anything."

She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever." I touched my hair again. "You know I don't care about these parties, Lily; I don't know why you bother to push me."

Lily put her wand away, her eyes glittering in a way that made me suspicious. "You need to get out more, have some fun – stop being cooped up all the time," she complained. "You _need_ someone to push you, or you'd never go. You haven't even been to the Last Dance!"

I ignored her pointed barb, true though it was.

The Last Dance. The boon of girls wishing to have one last dance to get drunk or snog or get hitched. The bane of girls like me, who didn't care about dances.

Lily had already gone to one or two, and been invited to all the rest. I had received a few, but Dayn and I had been dating and he hadn't wanted to go anymore than I had, so we both had abstained. Even the Marauders hadn't gone, which was surprising, as I had pegged them to pull a prank or two.

But then Remus had told me that James was still hoping to get Lily to go one day, so he had not yet pranked it.

The reason made sense. Sorta. I knew that James fancied Lily to the point where he really didn't date anyone else and asked her whenever possible and even doodled her name during spare moments. Marauders weren't known to linger for someone else, as he could have easily snapped his fingers and gotten another willing girlfriend, but for some reason, James had refused to go for the easier prey, and half the times I was convinced that he attacked Snape purely to show off rather than for any real malice between them.

"Sariah!"

Lily's hand sailed within an inch of my nose, and I nearly fell of my chair.

She smirked. "Daydreaming about your lover boy there?"

"Lily!" I stared, aghast. She of all people should know me better than that. "I do _not_ have a lover!"

She shrugged carelessly, making minor adjustments to her hair. Only she could make that careless movement so elegant and graceful. "Well," she muttered absently, "I figured that you would do better than to daydream about homework, so why not think about, say, Remus?"

"Maybe because Remus is friend, and I respect him as such?"

She snorted. "Respect. Sure."

I stood. "I'm leaving before you cast some kind of compulsion spell on me," I declared suspiciously. "And you make me do something I regret."

"You wouldn't regret it, now would you?"

"Lily!"

She laughed, and I stormed from the room, cheeks flushed. Remus was my _friend_, and he would remain so. I could not picture him as anything more or less. We were far too close to become anything more and also far too close to let go of each other and become anything less. Siblings didn't date. And neither did casual acquaintances. I was determined to become neither.

"Omph!"

I stumbled backwards, caught off guard when the wall suddenly moved six inches to stand in front of me and bar my way down the staircases.

"Sariah?"

I glanced hazily upwards at my rescuer and obstacle.

Then I blinked, and the world cleared.

My jaw dropped.

Remus pulled me back on my feet and stepped away self-consciously, nervously fingering his sleeve. He had a right to be nervous, because I was staring – but I would not have stopped for all the world. Remus looked . . . different. He preferred either Hogwarts uniforms or casual wizard's robes; he had never really dressed up, per se.

Now that he had, it made an automatic difference.

Remus coughed. "Um . . . Sariah?"

I snapped out of it. _It's not that he's handsome for me to drool over_, I told myself firmly. _He just looks well, for once._

Lily would laugh her butt off if she saw me now.

"Where did you get these?" I demanded. "I've never seen them before. . ."

"My father had them sent in," Remus explained. "It's really old, so of course you would never see it. My father rarely uses it. And I had to tailor it a bit too, to make it fit. So . . . are you ready to go?"

He offered me his arm, and I took it with a smile.

"You make me look like an ill-mannered ignoramus," I complained lightly. "You save me from falling, you explain stuff to me without making me feel like an idiot, and then you escort me. And all I did was stare and ask rude questions."

Remus smiled shyly. "Sariah, you are nowhere near an ignoramus."

"I beg to differ."

"Hmm. Well, I decline to accept."

"Remus!"

He laughed, seemingly to finally relax over my staring bout. "Got you there. Admit it."

"Fine, fine," I grumbled.

"Yes, yes, whatever, be quiet, would you?" Remus said suddenly, his tone quiet and his gaze annoyed.

I stared at him, startled. No one else was here – I hadn't said anything – and his gaze was turned . . . almost inwardly, as if he was talking to himself. But . . . But when one talked to oneself, one did not talk aloud. Remus never had before, and I had spent a great deal of time with him, so surely I would have heard if he did.

He turned to me. "What?"

"You – "

"Would you be quiet?" Remus hissed.

I stopped dead. "Who _are_ you talking to?" I demanded, whirling to face him, hands on my hips. "And what on earth are they saying?"

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
The full moon had been too near – the wolf had been acting up more and more, chatting in my head, inserting comments, and in general being a right pain in the butt. I had tolerated it as best as I could, but my temper was shorter now, also due to the wolf, and apparently I had started talking aloud to myself.

Which I didn't realize until Sariah yanked me around and demanded to know who I was talking to.

I froze. _Ooops. . . _

The wolf snickered. _"Ooops" indeed, pup._ It snickered again. _How will you explain to her why you're dwelling on that lovely dress of hers?_

_Be quiet!_

_Why? Why should I confine myself when there's so much to see? And say?_

_Perhaps for my sanity?_ I suggested, struggling to control myself and wishing there was something I could take – for I tolerate any kind of nasty medicine if it would shut this infernal little wolf up.

_What sanity?_

I groaned aloud. _And I thought transformations were bad._

"Remus. I'm waiting."

Sariah drew me back to the present with her annoyed tone and tapping foot.

I gulped. How could I even begin –

_With the truth?_

_No way!_ I protested. _She'll think I'm insane!_

_You already are, pup._

"Why would I think you insane?" Sariah asked curiously, the annoyance fading from her voice to be replaced with curiosity.

"Not you, the wolf," I replied without thinking.

It was only when Sariah's silver eyes widened and her jaw dropped open again did I realize that I had made the biggest mistake of all in trying to hide the fact that Moony was awake – I had finally spoken aloud when I had replied to him.

The wolf howled with laughter, and I did my best not to cringe.

"Who are you talking to?" Sariah demanded.

"Um . . . well . . . you see . . . The potion . . . um . . . had some . . . unintended side effects," I muttered shamefully, my voice growing softer with each word.

"And one of these side effects was . . ."

"Um . . . talking."

"To?"

"Moony."

Sariah blinked, and I remembered only belatedly that we had been very careful in ensuring that no one knew our nicknames – except perhaps our enemies, like Snivellus. She had no idea what "Moony" entailed, even though she knew I was a werewolf.

"Uh, I mean – "

"You mean the wolf?" Sariah interrupted.

"Um . . . yeah . . . how – "

She shrugged. "I've overheard Potter and Sirius call you that before. And Damocles was ranting about some bad side effects earlier. So . . .What's wrong?"

I took a deep breath. _She's always stood by you. Being a werewolf is being a freak – what more harm could you do that would make her run away? Talking to oneself is minor in comparison to turning into a bloodthirsty monster._

Or so I hoped.

"Well . . . The wolf has been acting up. A lot. I can . . . well . . . talk to him now."

Sariah blinked, and then rolled her eyes. "Is _that_ all?"

Now it was my turn to stare. I had assumed she'd at the very least call me a liar, and at the worst call me a freak. Her matter-of-fact response was rather unnerving.

"Really, Remus, I don't care. I will _never_ call you a freak." She sighed. "I was just worried you were hurting more than usual after a full moon or something. Or that . . . the . . . wolf . . . was making it difficult for you to concentrate to sleep. That's all. But if it's just talking. . ."

_And planning_, the wolf added.

_Shut it._

"I'm fine."

Sariah smiled. "I know. But I'm glad you told me. Are you ready?"

I took her arm and smiled back, relaxing in the knowledge that she really was one of the most valuable friends I had ever had. She and Lily and James and Sirius, and even Peter. Especially now that they all knew and still, somehow, did not care at all that I turned into a fully-fledged bloodthirsty monster once a month.

"Yes. Let's go. I'm starving."


	25. Chapter 25

**_Chapter Twenty-Five_**

**Summer Before Seventh Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I closed my eyes, wished with all my heart, concentrated with all my brainpower, turned in a miniature circle on the spot, and got . . . nothing. No sense of being forced into a tube, no compression of my breathing, no zapping through space and time. Nothing.

I opened my eyes, and stared across the lawn at the house. I hadn't even budged.

I mean, I was thankful that I hadn't splinched myself, but if it meant that I had moved, even if it was only _half_ of me. . .

I looked up at the sound of a faint _pop!_ Then Remus's father emerged from the clearing where he had been showing off, smiling faintly at me, with a very unusually disgruntled Remus in tow. From that, I surmised, Remus had failed to Apparate as well. Even worse was when Remus's father turned slightly and they vanished and reappeared right next to me.

Of course, by now, I was used to this.

Remus and I had both turned 16 before the end of the sixth year, but his parents had decided it would be best for us to be trained outside Hogwarts. That way less awkward questions would turn up if and when Remus missed practices. Here, if his father and mother trained us, it was a lot easier to conceal his disappearance at the full moon, and we could go be licensed without having the Ministry workers staring at or making rude remarks about us.

"It didn't work, did it?"

I sighed. "I didn't even splinch myself."

Remus raised an eyebrow as he tucked his wand back into his pocket. "You _want_ to splinch yourself?" he asked.

"At this rate, I'd be glad to know that I at least _moved_," I snapped back. "Even if it was only half of me. But this – this is _so_ frustrating! I'm doing everything the manual said to, but nothing works."

"Calm down," Remus's father counseled, placing his hand on my shoulder. "You're less likely to move anywhere when you're upset."

"Noticed."

He smiled. "Here, why don't the two of you take a break? You've been going at it since breakfast."

When his father was safely inside, I rolled my eyes.

"Saw that."

"Oh, hush, Remus."

"Why?"

"Because _some_ people do like to live without people making comments about every move they make," I said primly. "And when I say people, I do mean _people_."

Remus sighed, the laughter draining from his face. And from that I gathered that Moony was indeed making comments, as he had not yet gone away, even though the full moon was still two weeks away. Ever since he had drank that awful potion, Moony had been his constant mental companion, and Remus was hard put to control when and how he reacted to whatever the wolf sneered in his brain. He had already slipped up a few times, though thankfully no one had asked.

"He's talking again, isn't he?"

Remus bit his lip. "He says that wolves like running places better than Apparation. Which is why, in his opinion, I kept having so much trouble."

"How does that figure?"

He shrugged. "I'm not quite – Oh. He says wolves don't like to be, um, caged."

I stared at Remus for a long moment. He was telling the truth – that much I could see, but . . . Still. . . Moony was a powerful creature when he took control of Remus's body, stronger and faster than any human could possibly be – and he was _claustrophobic_?

"He's afraid of small spaces?"

Remus shrugged. "Apparently. . . I never was afraid of tight spaces though, so. . . I'm not quite sure what it's talking about."

"Maybe Moony just wants to taunt you."

"Maybe. It wouldn't be the first time."

I tilted my head. "Then what was the first time?" I asked curiously.

Remus reddened. It was hard to see, since we were in the shade and his face was shadowed, but there was a definite pinkish hue to his face that hadn't been there before. That intrigued me; Remus was rarely embarrassed in front of me, unless the Marauders were involved – but they weren't here, so I didn't understand what could have set them off.

"When he first spoke, I guess. He thinks of me as a pup."

"A what?"

"A pup."

"Like a wolf pup?"

"I believe so."

I stared, and then blinked and shook my head. _That's impossible._ "Now you're just teasing me."

"I most certainly am not."

"You're a Marauder," I said dryly. "Your word is always questionable."

Remus feigned disappointment and hurt, and the flush faded from his face as he slipped into Marauder mode. "You insult my honor, madam," he said, bowing as ostentatiously as he could without falling over. "I'm just an honest person trying to speak his thoughts; surely there is no crime for that?"

"Doesn't work on me," I reminded him.

"Pity."

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
"I've got a question for you, Remus."

"Hmm?"

I looked up, tugged out of my Potions book by Sariah's voice. She was sitting right next to me, her own books in her lap and piled around her, but she was staring off into the distance, clearly distracted by something.

_Or someone._

_Shut it,_ I growled at the wolf.

"What is it?"

Sariah turned to me. "Why is that you always refer to Moony as 'it' and not him? Or by name?" she asked. "Moony is part of you, isn't he?"

"Well . . ."

I floundered for a response, caught off-guard. _How can I possibly respond to that? And stay at least semi-intelligent? Or even give a decent response made of words, for that matter?_

_Why not tell the truth?_ the wolf suggested. _She speaks well, the human._

_Her name_, I snarled, _is Sariah._

_Whatever, pup._

I took a deep breath. "Well . . . I guess I never really thought of it that way," I admitted. "I've always called the wolf 'it'. As has everyone else."

"Hmm. You also call yourself a monster – not a human." Sariah picked moodily at the grass in front of her, tearing off the stems with a frown on her face. "So you believe, like everyone else, that Moony is a monster as well, rather than a living being whose life is just as worthy as everyone else's – and yours?"

"No!"

Sariah's eyes bored into me. "Then why do you call Moony 'it'?"

"Well . . . I . . . I don't it's true name."

_You did it again, pup._

_Fine! What is your name?_ I demanded.

The wolf sent the equivalent of a mental shrug, barking in its usual laugh. _I have none. We are named by our soul-brother or soul-sister – like you. And since your friends have deigned to label me Moony, it is Moony that I am, I guess._

_So I call you Moony?_

_No_, the wolf said. _You call me "it"._

For one second, I felt the full force of self-pity and sorrow from the wolf. Moony was a dangerous animal; he would tear even Sariah to pieces if she crossed him during the full moon. And yet, he felt sorry like all the rest of us, and he was even more dependent on me, his host, than I had thought. He was part of me, in a way.

Yet still we fought, every full moon, for control and for power.

_I must rise, or die_, the wolf whispered. _It is our way. . . And if I should die, so should you, we share life._

_No._ I cut the wolf off with as much dignity as I could. _No, we do not. There _must_ be a cure._

The wolf snarled, abruptly angry, and the sorrow dissolved.

"Remus?"

I sighed. "It says to call him Moony."

Her eyes brightened. "You're still talking to him? I would have thought you would have shut him out, at least as much as possible. . ."

"If only."

"He is part of you, Remus. You can't deny that."

_I can try._

_Then you will fail. Each and every time, pup, you will fail. To deny me is to deny your nature, and therefore forfeit your life – you should listen to the human._

_She does not understand._

_Have it your way then, pup._

I groaned and pushed my book out of my lap. I was making no headway with anything now – my book, my argument with Sariah, or my fight with the wolf. _Time for a strategic retreat._

"I'm going to try one more time," I announced.

"Go ahead," Sariah murmured absently, already bent over her book.

The wolf snickered.

_What?_ I demanded, irritated, as I laid out of destination, current and future, in my mind and turned my concentration towards the task at hand, lest I splinch myself and be in a rather awkward, unable-to-go-anywhere position for a hour or so until the Ministry wizards or my father could fix up the mess and reattach my wayward body parts.

_She's rather pretty, isn't she?_

I closed my eyes. _Oh gods. . ._ First my father, then my mother, then the Maruaders, and then the wolf. _Who next?_

_The human herself?_

_No!_

The wolf snickered again in the most superior fashion. _Mark my words, pup – we share the same host and have different souls, but what influences one influences the other._ He let that sink in until he delivered the final, horrible part of it. _And since you care for her, my affections are similarly turned._

_I do not . . ._

The wolf snarled. _You do._

_But she'll never care for me, ever._

_One day, pup._

_Never._

But I did like Sariah. And the wolf acknowledged that. And if we were part of each other, not quite one and the same, but close enough, then even if the wolf hated being confined to small spaces, perhaps . . .

I spun on the spot.

And rematerialized, gasping, on the other side of the clearing, shaken by the experience.

"Remus! You did it!"

_Yeah. Yeah, I did_, I thought, straightened and getting ready to do it again.

_You like her, pup._ The wolf barked out a taunting laugh. _In fact, you just moved because we both do, and it is only upon common ground that we can work together for something one of us hates so deeply. You cannot deny your affection for the human girl any longer._

_Shut up, Moony._


	26. Chapter 26

Final finale time! And no, we are nowhere near the end, as I still intend to go through the real HP books starting with PoA, but the name sounds cool. However, it is the time for my final exams, and just like the midterms, I shall be posting a chapter a day until the finals are done. So: Remus likes Sariah. Sariah likes Remus. Now how will the Marauders and Lily convince them to admit it?

* * *

**_Chapter Twenty-Six_**

**Seventh Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Lily Evans_ ~  
"Come _on_, Sariah. It's the Last Dance. Literally."

Sariah didn't even spare me a glance from the History of Magic or Transfiguration or Potions notes she was poring over. For the thirtieth time, I was sure, she was deliberately ignoring me, certain that I would give up, like I usually always did, after I encountered her steady and monosyllablic resistance.

Then again, this was the twentieth time we were having this conversation, so neither of us really needed to put that much thought into the conversation either.

But I wasn't giving up on this point.

Not this time.

Sariah had dodged out of the other Last Dance, and out of all of Slughorn's parties as well. Same excuses, pretty much – she needed to study for this test or another, she was tired and needed sleep, and so on.

Not tonight.

Tonight was the Last Dance, the dance where most of the students ended up staggering off to bed so late at night that they slept through most of the morning, the dance where _everyone_ ditched homework and studying to go to, the dance where girls spent months fussing over their dresses and guys spent months fussing over who and how to bring as their date. It was _the_ dance, the same way prom was prom for Muggles.

I had gone once or twice before, but this year, I was going with James. Like, a real date.

Sariah had never gone. She'd gotten a few invitations, teasing and legitimate, and turned them all down.

Well, not that she would have gone with Black, but still . . .

I fingered my wand. Now was a great time to remind Sariah why I was better at nonverbal charms than her. I aimed it carefully at the papers littering her desk.

_Accio._

The papers were half way out of her hands before she noticed. Sariah jumped out of her chair and made a wild grab for her papers – and her wand – but I grabbed both and Vanished them into one of my locked trunks. She wasn't getting them back until the next day, if she cooperated with me, and if she didn't, she'd spend hours wasting her time trying to break the charm I'd placed on the lock.

And if there another bad thing Sariah was at, it was

_Win-win for me._

I crossed my arms. "I don't think so."

"Lily – " Sariah sighed and tossed her hair back. "Lily, please. N.E.W.T.s aren't that far away, only a few weeks. I _need_ to study to get the grades. You know that."

"I do." I stepped to her side. "I also know that you've already been studying for the past month and a half and have practically memorized those notes word for word. Therefore, you are allowed one night off, or else you'll burn yourself out and not be able to sit through the exams. Also, this is the Last Dance. You _have_ to go."

"I don't want to," she muttered rebelliously. "It's just a dance."

I flicked my wand at her trunk and started rummaging through her dresses. She had very few, but there was one in particular that I wanted. It was simply gorgeous for her, and if she was going, I wasn't letting her out of my sight in a plain gown.

"Ah-hah!" I flourished the gown at her. "Wear this."

Sariah let the gown drop the floor, frowning at me as though I was suggesting that she eat raw meat. "Lily, be realistic. I'm not going. I don't have a date."

"Put it on."

"No."

"_Put it on._"

"No, Lily. Enough. Now give me back my notes."

"Or else?" I fingered the two wands I held. "I have a wand and you do not. And as I recall your wandless magic skills were never that brilliant – "

" – unlike yours. But seriously. Or else I'll let James prank you."

I smirked. Four years ago, the threat would have had me caving. Two years ago, the threat would have had me rolling my eyes. Sariah was looking for that reaction, but I didn't give it. _A totally empty threat, my friend._

"Nice try. But it was actually James who came up with the idea, so . . ."

Sariah stared. "James?"

"Yep. Oh, and that dare you owe me from the last round of Truth-or-Dare," I reminded her as sweetly as possible.

She sighed in defeat, leaning down to pick up the dress and placing it on the bed. She hated the dances, but I'd never found out why. But I had, at least, found ways to get her to go despite the hate, and that was good enough for me. "You're pulling out all the stops, aren't you?" she asked moodily, throwing aside her Hogwarts robes with every indication of unhappiness.

"You _are_ going, Sariah." I pulled out the chair as she zipped her dress up. "Sit down and let me do your hair."

"Please don't pull this time."

"Please don't move when I'm trying to style it," I countered.

Sariah sighed and closed her eyes, the picture of suffering. "Can you at least tell me who James had manipulated into going with me this time?"

"Nope."

_But when I'm done with you,_ I thought, brushing at her long black hair and already flitting through a hundred hairstyles to find the best match, _Remus won't be able to take his eyes off you all the same._

~ _James Potter_ ~  
"I don't understand why this is necessary," Remus said grumpily, eyeing where Sirius lounged against the door and I kept a firm hand on my wand and Peter watched every move Remus made as though Remus was handing out secrets for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s.

"Yeah, it's necessary – "

" – because you would get out of this – "

" – at the first opportunity – "

" – wouldn't you?"

Remus shook his head, his expression exasperated. "Stop it, you two. You know it hurts my head when you talk in tandem like that," he complained.

Sirius and I grinned at each other.

"Exactly what we – "

" – hoped to hear."

Remus swiped in my general direction. "Oh, shut up."

Sirius sent me another grin as he tweaked his own dress robes. He wasn't going to the Last Dance with anyone in particular – he never did. But he'd definitely have someone to snog by the end of the night, and probably have selectively picked that someone out of a crowd of clamoring girls all wanting his attentions.

Once, that would have been me too.

But this year, I was content to have Evans.

Sirius didn't quite understand why I was ready to give up my bachelor lifestyle to have Evans, but I thought she was definitely worth it. _More_ than worth it. Enough for me to even lay off Snape a bit.

Not that he had laid off on me. If anything, he seemed ever angrier for losing Evans's friendship.

Ah well.

Peter had a date – some Hufflepuff girl who he'd asked a few weeks' ago. Not quite the most interesting piece of gossip.

Remus, on the other hand, had not wanted to go at all. He had protested with everything he had no matter when or how we sprang the discussion on him, even though everyone knew that he and Alycone were perhaps closer than any other couple and any day now, once someone kicked them in the butt to open their mouths and admit it, they would probably get together.

So Evans and Padfoot and I had cooked up a nice little plan to get things started.

Evans had already entrapped Alycone. And all it had taken was a small round of daring and betting to ensnare Remus. It was probably unfair for us to corner and batter at him after a full moon, but it was done, and Moony couldn't back out now.

He was going.

And, unknown to him, he was going with Alycone.

And hopefully after a few dances and drinks . . . they might get together. And Evans and I would sit back and laugh at the two.

They were just so . . . _right_ for each other. Both nerds, both annoyingly good at evading our traps, both weirdos but able to accept each other's weirdness. They'd be perfect. If they admitted it to each other.

_ Well, if they don't do it tonight, they'll never do it._

Tonight was the night most people got together or sometimes even exchanged promise or engagement rings. The Last Dance was the place for that. Even Padfoot and I had dressed up nicely, for once, in proper dress robes and were planning no . . . major . . . pranks, except of course for this one with Moony and Alycone.

Remus sighed as he looked at his appearance. He looked good in the dress robes, at least.

"Who are you forcing to dance with me this time," Remus muttered, "and do I wish to know which method of manipulation you used to force?"

I grinned. "Uh-uh. No fishing."

"You'll find out soon enough, mate," Sirius said, yawning. "And no doubt she'll love you."

Remus's face darkened. "I doubt it. Not when she finds out . . . what . . . I am," he said, the words coming as reluctantly as possible for the usually articulate werewolf. "And I don't intend to date anyways."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what – "

" – you keep telling yourself. But – "

" – not tonight, Moony. Tonight – "

" – you _will_ – "

" – dance – "

" – have fun – "

" – and maybe even find a good kisser."

"Padfoot! Prongs!" Remus flushed so deeply he looked the same color as a bottle of wine as his hand plunged into one of his pockets, where he had stowed his wand.

Needless to say, it took a long time before we were all finally cleaned up and ready to go. And Sirius and I made a mental note to not underestimate Remus's capability and willingness to hex us when we poked into more personal aspects of his life.


	27. Chapter 27

Day 2 of my final finale! So: How will Sariah and Remus react when they realize they've been duped into dancing with each other?

* * *

**_Chapter Twenty-Seven_**

**Seventh Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I tugged at the collar of the dark dress robes I was wearing and scowled. James, Sirius, and Peter _still_ weren't letting even the tiniest detail slip about this mystery date that was coming from the dare I had so foolishly taken when we had been playing either. They seemed serious enough that it wasn't just a prank to drag me out here and away from my books, but I couldn't think of any girl would could possibly be happy with dating a Maruader.

Unless, of course, they had tricked her too.

_Well_, I thought, _is she has been tricked, I suppose it won't be that hard to just . . . let her go._

It wouldn't be her fault, after all, that she had been tricked. And that she didn't want to dance with me. People didn't know I was a werewolf, but human instinct kept them wary and at a distance all the same.

"Padfoot? Prongs?" I asked, carefully keeping my tone cool.

"A few more minutes," they replied as one.

I groaned. Already people were beginning to eat and drink and simply fool around in the Great Hall where the dance would start after the meal, and my intensified senses could easily pick out the scents of my favorite foods. And by heavens was I _hungry_.

It wasn't just me, of course, who was demanding food.

_I'm hungry._

_Well, so am I_, I told Moony. _There's not that much I can do about it right now. Just be patient, will you?_

After a whole summer of dealing with Moony's snarky and often unexpected comments, I was starting to get used to the wolf. He didn't do much harm, and I was getting better at hiding my surprise – and my replies – to whatever he said to me. And it was becoming easier to . . . almost . . . accept him as part of me. Just like Sariah had said.

"She's bloody late, like always!"

"Ah, lay off her, Padfoot. She'll get here. She wouldn't want to miss a dance with me, now would she?"

"I'm hungry."

"And cranky."

"Am not."

"Are so."

"Am not."

"Are so."

"Am not."

"Are so."

I sighed and tuned out of the conversation with a grimace. Sometimes, having really good hearing was a great thing. Other times, like now, not so much. All I had learned now was that James was once again waiting for his girlfriend.

I scanned the room. Lily was usually never late, but I couldn't see her.

_That's interesting._

_Where's her pack?_ Moony chimed unexpectedly.

_Her . . . what? You mean James?_

Moony snorted. _No, pup. Her . . ._

And then, quite suddenly, I got it. _You mean her friends?_

_Who else?_

_Well . . . they are her _friends_, Moony_, I said as politely as possible. _Not her, um, "pack". They are friends, and . . . well . . . that's just how humans refer to it. Humans live in families, not packs like wolves do, Moony._

_How could I forget?_ Moony grumbled. _With all your ramblings about your family. . ._

I winced. I had forgotten how deep my connection with Moony went. Even when I was relaxing and not meaning to talk to Moony, he could hear me. And he could comment too, although he usually didn't.

But he did have a point.

Lily wasn't here, and neither were any of her friends. That was strange. They weren't so tightly-knit that if one didn't come the rest all skipped too. And most of them had dates – serious boyfriends that most of them had spent weeks badgering to get ready for this, in their eyes, all-too-important dance.

_Where's the human?_ Moony asked.

I frowned to myself, knowing he would sense it. _What is Sariah to you?_

Moony ignored me. _You should dance with her, pup_, he said without preamble. _At least one dance._

I gaped at thin air, forgetting the fact that I was in a public venue and everyone would be giving me a strange look for it. _Why would I do _that_?_ I demanded. _Why would I dance with Sariah? Why would I even _consider_ dancing –_

_You want to._

I bit my lip. Moony had me there. I had entertained the thought from time to time, briefly and without any real concrete backing for it. I'd also always thrown the thought away; it was an idle thought, one without much real reason for or behind it.

"Remus!"

I nearly turned around in surprise. The rest of the Marauders hadn't called me by my proper name for years.

"Ah, no looking," Sirius admonished.

"What is it?" I complained. "How much longer are you going to keep up this charade of a joke? No one is coming already. Let's go eat before we starve and there's no good food left – "

Sirius whirled me around, cutting me off and nearly making me fall over to top it off. Then, grinning wickedly, he and James both gestured me towards the stairs with elaborate bows that would make the Queen of England's royal guards proud as Peter scurried out of the way from where he had apparently been playing lookout whilst James and Sirius babysat me and hastened to urge me onwards with another one of those exhilarated grins.

"What?" I asked impatiently.

"You'll see," was all they said.

I sighed and strode forward to the foot of the stairs. No one was there. I started to turn back, to call them out on their joke, when Moony caught the sound of footsteps and soft voices.

" – take this blindfold off?" someone was demanding.

"A few more steps, just a few more steps," someone else answered.

I froze.

It was Sariah and Lily coming down the steps. Lily was dressed in a breathtaking gown the same color as her vivid red hair, highlighting the green in her eyes and clinging to her to the utmost benefit of her figure. I could almost picture James's expression of disbelief and smugness as he saw her.

And then I saw Sariah.

She was dressed in a gown as dark as midnight, sprinkled with patterns and drips of silver ribbons and ornate designs with sparkling crystals. Half of her long hair was braided around her head in a crown with silver flowers tucked within the gaps, while the rest fell loosely down her back – Lily's work, no doubt. And she was actually wearing make-up, for once. And earrings. And a necklace. And a bracelet.

Everywhere, I could see Lily's touch.

Especially when it came to the blindfold tied over her eyes.

Lily winked at me as she set Sariah's hand in my own. "Sariah," she announced, "last step. And your escort for the night is here."

"Who is it now? And if this is a prank, I swear by all the heavens . . ."

I cleared my throat and reached for the blindfold, suddenly tired of all the dancing around. Or, at least, Moony was.

"It's not prank." I pulled the blindfold away. "It's me, Sariah."

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
Remus looked so different that it was only the fact that he had spoken that I recognized him.

My jaw dropped. "My god, what have they done to you?"

Remus raised an eyebrow and nodded at my dress. "I could ask the same of you," he replied teasingly.

I blushed. "Blame Lily."

"Blame . . . Oh, where'd they go?"

I looked at the landing and frowned. It was deserted. _And I clearly remember Lily being right beside me earlier. . . She must have grabbed James and left as soon as possible. Probably a good thing, for her. . ._

"Well, seeing as my . . . friends . . . have . . . conveniently disappeared," Remus said, cleaning his face of the scowl with great effort, "might I actually escort you down?"

"Did Potter and Black get to you?" I asked quietly as I took his arm.

"I suppose. Lily got to you?"

"More like _hexed_ me." I touched my face, where the make-up remained firmly on my face, resistant to tears, smudging, or, in Lily's words, "anything you can think up to get this off". "She almost glued me to the chair with a Permanent Sticking Charm. And she stole my notes and locked them in her trunk."

Remus laughed. "I guess you had a harder time than I did, then."

I sighed. "What's the point of this, really?" I asked curiously. "Or are they back to insisting that because we're friends, we _have_ to date?"

"The latter, I believe."

"Ah."

We arrived at the edge of the Great Hall, and I hesitated. I could already imagine the smirks on the faces of my friends and the Marauders as I noted how some of the other students were already gasping, pointing, or whispering because Remus and I had walked in together.

Remus seemed to understand my hesitation.

Only he took it differently.

"Um . . . Do you, um, want to dance?" he asked, so quickly that he stumbled over the words.

I was taken aback. Remus had never danced, as far as I knew, or expressed the wish to dance. And I had never danced around him either.

"Uh . . . if you want. . ."

He swept me out onto the dance floor – just in time for an ungodly slow waltz to start.

Remus and I both winced.

"Remind me to hex Lily into oblivion tomorrow," I muttered through gritted teeth as Remus carefully placed a hand on my waist.

He shrugged. "If you'll remind _me_ to hex the Marauders."

I looked at him, and pitied the three other boys. Remus was polite, but a force to be reckoned with when he was pissed off – like now.

"Deal," I promised.

The dance seemed to take an eternity. I looked everywhere but Remus's face, as it was simply too awkward – we were close enough to be brother and sister, and this dance, with its snail-pace slowness and formal movements, was just plain _awkward_. Which, I guessed, was why James and Lily had requested it, and then waved it to start the moment we had made the very bad decision to give in and dance at least one dance.

"You look beautiful."

Remus's voice startled me, and my gaze snapped back to his face. Then they registered, and I fought to keep my tone calm.

"Lily's work. She spent more time on me than she did on herself."

He smiled slightly. "It shows."

I, determined to keep a somewhat straight face for however longer this dance was, touched the lapel of his formal dress robes. "And these – I'm guessing James got them?"

"And forced me into them, yes."

The rest of the dance passed in awkward silence.

At least, in the beginning it was.

But then, as time passed, it wasn't anymore. It felt normal. Peaceful, if I could dare to use that word while You-Know-Who was still out there and causing damage left, right, and center. Even . . . _nice_, with Remus holding me and for the first time not looking at me as the normal fellow bookworm and nerd, but actually as someone he could note as "beautiful".

_Oh, listen to yourself. You'd have to be – _

And then I got it.

Lily was right. James had been right. Sirius, the most infuriating creature on the Earth, had been right.

Because somewhere between pillow fights, dueling wars, pranking other people, studying, and everything else we had ever done, I had . . . somehow . . . become attracted to Remus. Somehow, sometime, I had.

Oh, sheesh. Attracted wasn't even right.

I was _in love_ with him.

The dance ended, and I looked straight into Remus's eyes and saw the same war, and for that moment all I wanted to do was – had we been in a private place – pull his head down and kiss him.

That was when we slammed against a wall.

"What – "

Remus's eyes flashed, and he let go of me, whirling to face a foe with his wand half out of his pocket –

Nothing.

Or, more importantly, no one.

People gathered around us stopped dancing, either smiling in amusement or snickering behind their hands, as they pointed above our heads and gaped at the shiny golden circle that Remus and I were entrapped in.

I looked up, and groaned.

"Remus?"

"Hmm?"

"Look up."

A tiny cluster of bright green mistletoe with a glowing golden outline had appeared over our heads.

Remus cursed under his breath, and raised his wand.

I grabbed his arm. "Remus, it's impervious to hexes," I hissed. "One of the teachers must have enchanted it; they do this every year, to trap one or two couples a dance, I think."

"And how do we get out?"

"Um . . ."

I blushed furiously. There was no _way_ I was explaining this one to him, if he didn't already know. His eyes widened, and he would have stumbled away from me – except that he couldn't leave the circle – and I knew then that he understood perfectly what this mistletoe meant and what we had to do – in front of over a hundred people, no less – to get free.

"Well, um . . . Should we just . . . get it over with?" he suggested, flushing as deeply as me.

"Maybe."

People started chanting, and I ignored them as best as I could.

And Remus took a deep breath, leaned forward, wound his arms around me, and kissed me straight on the lips.


	28. Chapter 28

Day 3 of my final finale! So: How will Sariah and Remus deal with their first kiss?

* * *

**_Chapter Twenty-Eight_**

**Seventh Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
Remus dropped my arm with a sigh and rubbed his face. "Well, _that_ was interesting," he groaned.

I smiled, pulling my shawl closer. "Define 'interesting'."

"No thank you."

Everyone had been entirely _too_ interested in watching our reactions after Remus and I had been trapped under the enchanted mistletoe and therefore had been imprisoned in place, unable to move, with the only way of breaking the spell being kissing. I had my suspicions over who was responsible, especially considering everything else they had done, but at the same time, I didn't really blame her. Oh, I would ream out Lily tomorrow, and I was sure Remus would do the same to the Marauders, but I wasn't going to totally mean it.

Not at all.

Lily had been right. Somewhere, somehow, I had done as she had predicted years ago and fallen for Remus.

It wasn't that he was a bad choice.

The problem would be making him see it. And then making him accept it.

Remus had had always had a problem with his self-esteem. He simply refused to accept that even though I knew he was a werewolf, I held no grudge against him for it. He was fine the way he was. If I would change him back into a human, it would be because he wished for it so badly, not because I hated that he was a werewolf.

I could live with it.

_Who are you kidding? You _are_ living with it._

Or, at least, I had been. But I was seventeen now, and in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic, a full adult. I could move away from the Lupins and find my own place to call home. And I did intend to do that; they could not support me my entire life.

"Sariah?"

I looked at Remus. "Yes?"

"You're planning on moving out?"

It was phrased as a question, but I knew that it wasn't. Remus was sometimes entirely too good at connecting the dots for his own good, this included. Besides, I was sure that I had hidden the signs of my plans for now. . .

"Soon," I answered finally, knowing it would be worthless to try and hide it from him. "I'm 17, you know. I can't depend on your family for my entire life."

He looked away, pacing to the edge of the bush, which was glittering with fairy lights and golden baubles. For some reason, my answer saddened him – or perhaps he was simply resigned to the fact that we were not brother and sister, in name or in blood, and that we would no longer live together as we had become accustomed.

"I will miss you," he said lowly.

I stepped closer, feeling my heart start to quicken. There was something in his voice. . .

"As will I," I said just as quietly. "But we can still keep in contact. I have plans to buy an owl soon."

Remus stared. And then he started to laugh, turning away from the bush. "An _owl_?" he laughed.

I blushed, but I maintained my ground. He wasn't the first to laugh at me when I had announced this. "Yes, Remus, an owl," I repeated tartly.

"Sariah – you _hate_ owls. Especially when you have to try and attach letters to their legs for delivery, or even pay them for delivering the newspaper." His laughter started dying down, but he still gazed at me amused eyes. "Why don't you get a cat? You've always liked cats. Or, perhaps, even a dog. But not an owl."

"I don't _hate_ owls," I protested.

He raised an eyebrow. "Could have fooled me."

I crossed my arms. "Well, then, Mr. All-Knowing, tell me, how am I supposed to keep in contact with everyone?"

"Go to the Owl Post?" he suggested.

I sighed. _Always have to be the one with the smart suggestion._ "Yes, they _definitely_ have _those_ in the Muggle world," I said snappishly.

Remus shrugged. "You know your way around there better than I do."

I groaned. "Forget it. Just _forget_ it."

And there, that brilliant smile was back on his face. I liked it. A lot. It was the one expression on his face that wasn't haunted by his early maturation due to his lycanthropy. Well, that expression, and the one where he was so surprised that his face looked like a cross between me just whacking him over the head and he not being able to breathe.

Nah, I liked this one better.

"I win."

"When don't you?"

He shrugged, carelessly twirling his wand between his fingers and sending random sparks of red and gold into the sky. "When you convinced me I wasn't a monster?" he suggested.

My breath caught.

Remus smiled, and looked straight at me. "Did you think I forgot?"

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I was taking a risk, I knew it. But I had to know.

And she looked so . . . beautiful, there, as though she was a dream that wound fade upon morning. I had to take my chance and go with my impulse before I lost my nerve or forgot where I was going.

"I – um – no," she stammered, tucking her hair behind her ears in a gesture I knew was covering for her nervousness.

_We know each other too well._ She had known I wasn't asking any question, and she had really only humored me with a response because she knew that I wished so. And I knew her well enough to guess easily at her body language, and what it meant she was likely to be thinking.

She was caught off guard.

And fighting with something she didn't want to show me.

For a second, my nerve floundered. _Perhaps she means to tell me she has found someone else. Is that why she is nervous? She knew I disapproved of Dayn Maran. But surely she would not date another Slytherin?_

Moony sniffed. _I smell no one._

I bit back my shock. _Moony!_

_Smell for yourself, pup_, he insisted calmly. _There's been no man near her but you. And the rest of the pack, of course, but the smell is too weak for anything but a casual touch._

I sighed and took a deep breath.

He was right.

No one's scent lingered around her but my own. And had she a boyfriend, she would probably have at least kissed or held hands with him, and Moony would have noticed. She had done the same for Maran, anyways.

"What's wrong?" I asked, trying to rebuild my nerve.

Sariah started and looked at me with confused eyes. "What do you mean? Nothing's wrong, I just . . ."

"Just what?" I prompted softly.

She turned away, wrapping her arms about her as if she was cold.

I waited in silence.

She would answer me whenever she felt like it. And if she didn't, then that was her choice to make. I had no right to pry into her private life, even if I had been fulfilling the role of her protective older brother in all but blood.

_Not brother_, Moony whispered.

_Then what?_

_You know what, pup. And besides, it disdains me to use human terms_, he sniffed.

My breath caught. _You mean . . ._

_You've loved her for a while, pup. Don't think I haven't noticed._ He paused. _You can't hide something like that from me. Even when you don't intend to or shield yourself, you forget who takes control during the full moon. I have full access to your thoughts then. And they linger on this human more than most._

_The question is, does she love me back?_

Moony sent the equivalent of a shrug. _How should I know? I am not versed in human courting practices._

I snorted aloud, unable to stop myself. _Human courting practices?_ I repeated.

"Remus?"

I looked up at Sariah, who was staring at me, and smiled apologetically. "Sorry," I said. "Moony is talking, and he just said something extremely . . . ridiculous."

_Ridiculous?_ the wolf snarled.

_Be quiet._

She stepped closer, filling my nose with the scent of fresh flowers. "What did he say?" she asked curiously.

I hesitated, wondering how I could possibly explain. Sariah had never shown any aversion to me being a werewolf or talking to the wolf in my head. In fact, she had seemed more curious about it than I was, and a great deal less bothered by it.

Then again, she didn't have a snarky voice in her head.

_Snarky?_

_Be quiet, Moony._

"Something . . . stupid," I muttered.

Sariah raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because that's what you just said earlier." She paused. "I was asking for _specifics_, Remus."

"Um . . ."

I scrambled to find a way to answer her. I couldn't tell her what Moony had _really_ said, because it was just . . . way . . . too embarrassing to try and even contemplate me even attempting to explain such a thing to her and keep a straight face on, but if I tried to lie or evade or straight-out change topics, she'd know at once and be suspicious and grill me for hours, and then it might come out anyways. . .

_Just tell her already, pup._

_No!_

Moony was unconvinced. _Why are you so afraid of her knowing, pup?_

_I'm not afraid!_

_Really._ He paused. _Then prove it. Who are you more afraid of, pup? The human – or yourself?_

Then, quite suddenly, he was gone, and I couldn't feel him at all. It was the first time he had not been present, listening or speaking, since he had appeared after that failed cure experiment had knocked me out.

_Moony?_

_Privacy, pup. Don't waste it._ And then he was gone again.

I sighed in exasperation. _Why does everyone keep hounding on me to kiss Sariah or be her boyfriend?_

Sariah jumped in surprise, her silver eyes going wide, and I realized at the last second that I had spoken aloud instead of just in my mind.

Moony snickered.

_Shut up._

"Moony thinks so too?" Sariah murmured, easily understanding. She shook her head, trailing her fingers over the golden flowers wound around the path. "It seems the whole world thinks that we belong together, and is determined to push us together no matter what the consequences. . . The end justifies the means."

I looked at her, and finally, I gave up. Gave up trying to resist, gave up trying to deny things, gave up trying to be gallant. She was leaving soon. This would be my last chance, and I was tired of being the self-sacrificing, noble one.

I wanted the same thing every person did: love.

"Do you think that they are wrong? About us, at least?" I asked.

She hesitated.

And I saw the uncertainty in her silver eyes the same uncertainty I had always felt, and then I knew that she felt the same.

So I did what seemed most natural: I grabbed her arms, pulled her towards me, and kissed with every bit of passion that I felt – and now, no longer had to hide, because we were alone, and she loved me as much as I loved her.


	29. Chapter 29

Day 4 of my final finale! So: Remus and Sariah weren't the only ones seeking privacy from the Last Dance. But what is her old ex-boyfriend going to do?

* * *

**_Chapter Twenty-Nine_**

**Seventh Year at Hogwarts**

~ _Dayn Maran_ ~  
I narrowed my eyes as I stared out the window across the gardens as couples waltzed across the room to a crooning love song that was utterly ridiculous. But the love song wasn't the true and only source of what bothered me. What really bothered me was this: even from so far away, I could easily recognize the girl in the long black dress and the boy in handsome dress robes standing so close together in the castle gardens – Sariah and Lupin.

It wasn't hard to notice.

I had lost Sariah two years ago, but it wasn't like I had forgotten her – or the boy who had, in turn, stolen the love that once was mine.

Not that they had admitted it yet, of course. From all I knew, they still treated each other as friends, eyeing their own friends with exasperation whenever they suggested that the two get together and start dating.

It was a small hope. I had seen the way they looked at each other when the other wasn't looking – whenever Sariah struggled in Potions and Lupin looked on with an amused eye, whenever Lupin stumbled down the corridors after a full moon and Sariah watched him with eyes so worried she might as well have been his mother. Even if they hadn't admitted it, they were already past the stage of letting go.

Long past.

It was such a shame. True, Sariah was a Gryffindor and a half-blood, but she was smart and strong, and besides, the Dark Lord had way too many followers for them _all_ to be pure-bloods. I was sure that the Blacks were purebloods, and all of their relations, but as for the rest. . . As for even the Dark Lord himself. . .

_If only Sariah had never been Sorted into Gryffindor._

I unconsciously rubbed at the tattoo burned into the skin of my left arm. I knew without looking what shape it was, and what it meant. I had always known.

And if Sariah had still been with me, she would have born the same tattoo one day.

The Dark Lord couldn't promise that I would gain Sariah. But I knew I would, one day. I had tried to have her the normal way, but it had failed. And that meant there was only one other recourse – that I take her by force.

And one day, when Hogwarts fell – when _Dumbledore_, that bloody old lunatic, fell – then when we shared the riches of the world and the Muggles were set in their proper places, then I would take the one jewel I had always known would be mine to take. I would serve the Dark Lord, and that would be my reward, one day.

As I watched Sariah and Lupin kiss, I slowly slipped my wand out from under my robes.

So. They _were_ admitting it.

_It's a pity, then, that it will never come to anything_, I thought. _Even if she _does_ remember what happened._

I watched as they separated, eyes bright and faces flushed, and how they held each other so close. And I watched as their groups of friends dragged them off, first the Marauders yelling at Lupin, and then the Mudblood Evans and her group mobbing Sariah, and I waited. The timing would have to be perfect, or my spell would never hold, and my last chance would finally be gone.

But a Death Eater never accepts defeat.

There were other ways. This just happened to be the easiest.

I lifted my wand and aimed it straight at the back of Sariah's head. Just as she began to speak, giving into the Mudblood and talking about whatever Lupin had said to her, I smiled, steadied my hand, thanked the Dark Lord, and thought, _Obliviate_.

And then I pocketed the wand and strode away, knowing that no matter what, Sariah would never remember what had happened.

Especially the kiss.


	30. Interlude: Part I

A/N: Seeing has not really much happens between the end of Remus and Sariah's Hogwarts years and when they meet again that would be interesting or easy to portray in chapter form, as they don't meet the entire time, I decided to do all the years that elapsed in an Interlude of sorts – basically, their letters to each other that never get sent out.

And does anyone know exactly what year Lily and James married?

* * *

**_Interlude: Part I  
_**

[Excerpts from the letters of Sariah Alycone to Remus Lupin]

**16 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
I hate to admit it, but Lily was right. The Last Dance was fun. Somewhat. It was fun when I wasn't having to dance with you, at least. It's not that I don't like dancing with you, but it isn't that fun when we are being pressured to do so.

And now I'm just rambling, aren't I?

Ah well. I'm sure that if you've put up with me so long since my parents died, you'd be used to it.

The main point of this letter, really, was to ask you to thank your parents for everything you've done for me for the past few years. If you could just let them know. . .

I've settled in the Leaky Cauldron for now, until I find a permanent housing option. Not the fanciest place, but I've had worse. At least here I don't have to remind myself to act and dress like a Muggle.

I'm also applying for an internship at the Ministry. It might not be the best place, but I don't fancy working in a shop in Diagon Alley for the rest of my life or bouncing from country to country in international work and I'm too young to stay at Hogwarts. I'm not sure what department to go into yet. Maybe something to do with Muggles; I, at least, have some experience with how their world works.

Oh! And I got an owl, as you can see. But I haven't the least idea what to name her. You're the history scholar – what's a good name?

And I have one more thing, Remus. Lily keeps pushing me to admit to something; she says I'm hiding something from her about the night of the Last Dance. She says she got it from James, who got it from you. But . . . what is there to tell? We danced – as they made us – and then we talked in the garden to escape any further dances and then the Marauders dragged you off while Lily mobbed me, and then we all went to bed. I don't understand what her big fuss is about. All we did is talk, and I don't think there was any big secret in the conversation that we discussed.

Was there?  
_Love, Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
They're still processing the application and trying to find a spot. So cross your fingers for me!

As to your name suggestions. . . I don't know. I'm caught between a few of them actually. But thanks for the suggestions anyways! I really like "Syrena" and "Nike" though. And although the latter does sound silly, I suppose most people in the Wizarding World don't know much about Muggle businesses anyways.

And, no, I don't remember anything . . . amazing from the Last Dance. . . I mean, we talked. We always talk. That's kinda why we are friends. I don't see much "amazing" about that.

It's not an insult, it's just . . . I don't know. Please write back quickly before Lily arrives and tears me to pieces.  
_Love, Sariah_

_Dear Remus_,  
Good guess. I think you know me too well.

Well, you were half right. I say half, because you guessed two departments, but I only ended up in one.

Yes, I've ended up in the Department for International Magical Cooperation. It's rather nice, actually, getting to meet all these wizards from different countries without ever having to leave the country. Unless you count attending a meeting via Floo powder, which, by the way, I do not recommend at all, as it is very painful after a few hours.

But at least it pays well. After a few months, if I save correctly and considering the inheritance from my parents in Gringotts, I should be able to at least rent an apartment in Diagon Alley and get away from the Leaky Cauldron.

Lily keeps pushing me – Remus, is there something anyone's not telling me?  
_Love, Sariah_

* * *

**15 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus_,  
I've settled on a name, finally. I think Syrena will be perfect for the owl. And she already responds to it anyways. Go on, put down the letter and try it?

See?

But I digress. How are your parents? And the Marauders, how are they, much as I shudder at the very thought of them being well and pulling Lord knows what kind of pranks on innocent victims? Especially now that the Trace is gone off of everyone, and they are free to charm the whole world – so long as no one protests.

And why didn't you tell me that Sirius had left his house? Or is it something else that I learned and mysteriously forgot?

No, that was rude of me. Sorry. I'm just a . . . little . . . frustrated. But at least Lily's stopped bothering me about it. And now that she is dating James, I can at last bother _her_ about something just as embarrassing.

In any case, the Potters have invited me to Sunday lunch. See you then!  
_Love, Sariah_

_Dear Remus_,  
Why didn't you turn up to the Sunday lunch? We all missed you.

Or . . . Or was it more of that mysterious work for the Order of the Phoenix? Which, by the way, Dumbledore keeps bothering me to join. But what exactly are you trying to do? Concoct a secret plan to take You-Know-Who down one dead body after another? There have been so many murders, Remus . . . Please tell me it's not going to be your funeral that's next!

In less . . . pleasant news, I fear that I failed in my internship after all.

Ah, not that way.

I did pass the tests and everything. I'm all set to be a full Ministry worker by September, or even earlier if the paperwork goes through fast enough (which I know it won't, considering this bureaucracy).

But they have decided to send me overseas anyways. What a pain.

I'll write whenever I get to America.  
_Love, Sariah_

* * *

**14 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus_,  
I'm so sorry that I haven't written before this. I've been so busy – getting the passports, getting the visa, finding a place to live – my God, finding the _wizards_! But it's been so much fun.

Of course, now I have to come back. I've had plenty of experience to fulfill my position.

And, of course, I have to be in time for Lily and James's wedding. Sirius is best man, I think, but Lily insisted that I be the maid of honor. I'm sure she's had plenty of time to rack her brain – and the shelves – for all kinds of horribly "beautiful" dresses she'll want me to wear. And as she's the bride, I fear I'll have no choice but to give into her wishes. . .

Don't you _dare_ laugh when I come out!  
_Love, Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
Have I yet mentioned that you are _very_ lucky that this letter isn't big enough to send a curse?

No?

Well, consider yourself warned. And don't try to get out of it! You and Sirius definitely deserve it after the comments you made while the bridesmaids were getting dressed last week. The only reason I didn't go hang you by your fingers from the highest window was because Lily decided it would be improper for me to go chasing after you two in my gown.

And, no, I haven't burned it yet. But I am _very_ tempted.

And I'm never wearing it in your sight again.

Oh! And the pictures have come in. . . Hang on a second.

Sirius looks the same – the cool playboy laughing in the background and making fun of everyone else. . . And James and Lily look radiant. The photographer did a nice job. Oh, and the flower girls look so cute. . . I'll make a few copies and send them along with the next letter –

My God! Remus! How the – How on earth did you manage to charm my dress to that _awful_ red when they took the photo without me noticing?

Oh, now you are _definitely_ getting a curse the next time I see you!  
_Plotting now, Sariah_

* * *

**13 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
Why didn't you show up for the annual Sunday lunch, Remus? Everyone missed you . . . again. Honestly, I think you're inheriting Sirius's tendency to forget things – but even he showed up! The only ones who didn't were you and Peter, this time. Everyone else came.

And – oh – such exciting news!

Lily and James are going to have a baby, Remus!

Please tell me you're coming for the baby shower. If that not, at least come over sometime so you can meet the child. It's the least you can do.  
_Love, Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
It's a boy. They're calling him "Harry James Potter". He's such a sweet boy, Remus. . . And he looks so much like James it's not even funny – except his eyes, of course. He has Lily's eyes, and they are lovely.

Sirius has been named godfather. I'm not sure that was the wisest move. . .

But hey, if there's a prize for having the most daredevil godfather, little Harry might win it one day.

I wish you had been here, Remus. You've been skipping out on more and more of these events with barely an advance notice. We're all missing you so much. . .  
_Love, Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
I heard about your parents. I'm so sorry. I . . . I'm sorry. When's the funeral?  
_Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
I'm sorry to have missed the funeral. Can I come and just . . . see you? Please? Even just for a lunch, please. . .  
_Sariah_

_Dear Remus_,  
Lily and James have vanished. Sirius tells me they have gone into hiding, to protect Harry. I have no idea what's going on, but it must be serious. One day, they were here, in Godric's Hollow as always, happy and carefree and loving as always – the next, Dumbledore was there for an "urgent meeting" – and then _poof_! They were gone.

But, as I understand it, only one person can tell me where they have gone, or why. And it's not Dumbledore, apparently. Or the Ministry.

I can guess the reason behind that, and I think you can too.

And the fears of why. . . I can't believe any of you would ever betray them, Remus. _Any_ of you. Even Peter wouldn't give in – these are his friends, for crying out loud! But I guess they suspect You-Know-Who is using the Imperius Curse again. . .

I'm so confused.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**12 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus_,  
I write to you in shock.

Lily and James are dead. Dead. Dead. . .

Gods. And the same night that I was supposed to meet up with Sirius and Peter to talk about joining the Order of the Phoenix. . . But they're gone too now. Everyone is gone. . .

Even Harry.

I'm sure Dumbledore will protect him, but even so. . . Was it really worth this? Did it really need the death of two good people to bring about the downfall of You-Know-Who? Was this price worth it?

I guess we'll never know.

I'm sorry, I – I have to stop writing, or else you'll never get this letter in one piece.

I'll see you at the funeral.  
_Love, Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
I can't believe it.

I cannot believe it. Did you hear the news, Remus? About . . . About Sirius?

He's a raving madman. I can't believe we were all fooled by that. How could we? And Lily and James – they _trusted_ him, Remus! How could he do that to them? To _us_?

I will never forgive him for this.

Ever.  
_Love, Sariah_

* * *

**11 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
I think . . . I think we are falling apart, Remus. I haven't seen or spoken to you in so long. . . This fear of You-Know Who – Lily and James's death – Sirius Black's capture and imprisonment – Peter's death – I think this poison is sinking in too deep. I can't . . . I don't know.

I don't think I'll post this letter.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**10 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus_,  
How strange life can be. I haven't thought of you in an entire year, Remus. An entire year. . .

And I only remembered you because I read in the _Daily Prophet_ about that werewolf legislation that makes it practically illegal to hold a job, and I thought of you out of the blue, and I wondered how you were doing. . .

No, that's a lie. I wouldn't have made the connection at all, actually – in fact, I really only skimmed the section and ignored it – if Syrena hadn't died.

You named her, Remus. And you admired her so much. . .

Yet we've barely spoken, even by her.

What's happened to us, Remus? Why are we so close, and yet so far apart?

Was it You-Know-Who?

Was it Lily and James?

Was it Sirius?

Was it Peter?

Was it the fact that you've been vanishing from all events where we could get together?

I don't know. I have no answers.

I miss you.

But the wound . . . it's not as painful as it should be, this one. I don't understand.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**9 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus_,  
I don't understand why I'm still writing in your name at the head of this letter. It's not even a letter anymore. I mean, I haven't had any contact with you for . . . what . . . two, three, four years now? Ever since . . .

Never mind. This thing isn't being sent anyways. No sense in writing down what I already know.

I miss you.

But life goes on. I was offered a promotion today, at the Ministry. I don't know whether to take it or not. Especially since Dumbledore's said there's an opening for a junior professor of Ancient Runes, and I've always wanted to go back to Hogwarts and teach, someday.

I wish I could ask you. You always gave good advice for things like that.

It's a pity this letter can't speak to you in my voice, or vice versa. There are so many things I could say. . .

I visited Lily and James's grave today. It's so cold and barren. . . But their house – it looks horrible. Have you seen it, Remus? I can remember what it used to be, and now . . . now it's just a haunted house, really, a testament to everyone who has died. I respect that, but . . . to take one look at that house . . . it's worth more than every single nightmare I've had about their deaths.

I'm never going back there again.

I wish you had been there. You would have known what to say.

You always did.

I miss you.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**8 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
I've made my decision. I shall start September 1st as a teacher at Hogwarts.

I miss you.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**7 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
Nothing amazing. Although I don't think I would have said I wanted to be a teacher if I'd known how much work is involved. . . But it's gratifying, in its own small ways. I think.

Harry would be . . . how old now? I don't know.

I just know that I miss Lily and James even more now – now that I'm surrounded by students old enough to remember the end of the war, and to have purchased the updated versions of the histories that include the Potters. Thank goodness none of them realize how close to home those reminders are.

I miss you.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**6 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
Nothing amazing. I'm getting better at this teaching thing.

I miss you.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**5 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
I wonder when these letters turned into . . . whatever this is. We were so close. Once. I wonder what happened to that.

To us.

To everyone.

We're all scattered to the four corners of the earth, aren't we? You're . . . You're wherever you are, I'm at Hogwarts, Peter is dead, Sirius is in Azkaban, Lily and James are at Godric's Hollow. What I would give for the old days when we could just laugh and eat and be together at their house on Sundays. Even with the war, at least I still had them.

I miss you.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**4 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
I miss you.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**3 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
Harry's here, Remus. Lily and James's son is _here_! And my God – he looks so much like James that when I first saw him, being Sorted here in the Great Hall, I thought I had stumbled upon a Time-Turner. Black, messy hair, as usual; the glasses, always the glasses.

But Lily's eyes. So startlingly bright green. . .

I wish you could have been here to see him. It's such a pity I can't have him in my class until third year, and only then if he chooses my class.

He won't. Even Lily didn't.

I miss you.  
_Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
And apparently Harry has inherited James's flair for the dramatic. He's in the hospital wing now, recovering from his battle with former-Professor Quirrel in the dungeons. Somehow, he found out about the Sorcerer's Stone and decided that he and he alone could save it.

Typical.

Thank goodness Dumbledore arrived in time to save him.

I miss you, now more than ever.  
_Sariah_

* * *

**2 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Remus,_  
Hmm. Harry is awfully close, Remus, to me labeling him as the next generation of Marauders. Can you guess how he got into school this year? No?

He _flew_.

In an enchanted car.

Straight from Muggle London – and into the Whomping Willow!

I guess the train wasn't good enough for him.

And it was _definitely_ something he got from James's side,not Lily's. She would have never caused such trouble. And now we have to try and go bandage up that miserable old tree. How we are going to explain that, I shall never know.  
_Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
Well, good riddance!

The new DADA professor – he's horrible, Remus. I swear I haven't met him _once_ where he hasn't mentioned that he's famous, that he's ravishingly handsome, or that I should be dying of happiness that he has given the honor of talking to me.

Absolutely disgusting. I fear I'm going to have to borrow from your book, Remus, and prank him before I go mad.  
_Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
Ah, never mind. We have more pressing concerns.

The Chamber of Secrets is open.

And Muggle-borns are being caught, Remus. I fear the school may close if we can't find out what's going on, and soon. . .  
_Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
Hmm. Really no need now. That professor's gone and charmed his memory away.

Thank goodness.

Oh, and Harry has, as usual, saved the day. The Chamber of Secrets has been found out, and the creature – a basilisk, of all things – is dead. The school can reopen, at last. And Dumbledore is back from the banishment of the governors – I do think they intend to fire Lucius Malfoy for trying to get rid of him.

Remember old Malfoy?

Yeah. Him.

Thank goodness he's gone too.

Except now we again need a new DADA professor. This is getting tiring.  
_Sariah_

_Dear Remus,_  
I'm off on a vacation to America. It should be fun. I'll be back in time for the school year.

I wish you could have gone with me. America is much more accepting of . . . well . . . people like you. Some are fearful, of course, but most don't bat an eyebrow about it as long as you have the Wolfsbane Potion.

I wish you could be here, with me, and getting that potion. It'd help so much. . .

I miss you.

And I still have no idea how these letters ended up being more like my personal diary than anything I'd ever have the guts to send to you.  
_Missing you terribly, Sariah_

[end of letters for Sariah Alycone]


	31. Interlude: Part II

A/N: Seeing has not really much happens between the end of Remus and Sariah's Hogwarts years and when they meet again that would be interesting or easy to portray in chapter form, as they don't meet the entire time, I decided to do all the years that elapsed in an Interlude of sorts – basically, their letters to each other that never get sent out.

* * *

**_Interlude: Part II_**

[Excerpts from the letters of Remus Lupin to Sariah Alycone]

**16 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
You're right; the Last Dance was fun. Even though I'm sure Lily was lot better at getting you into it than James and Sirius were. I think I still have bruises from that. And I'm probably never living down what my face looked like when I looked up and realized that they had spent the entire time doing everything just to trick us.

True. Sometimes my father forgets and my mother has to remind him about the dressing rules. Although I suppose it's because he's lived in the magical world for so long.

I don't think I'll forget as easily. At least sometimes it's easier to find a job in the Muggle world.

But enough of my troubles. Which departments are you applying to? I'm guessing something international; you always wanted to travel, and you never got the opportunity to. Well, I guess you also didn't like to go far away from home. Maybe the sports department, if you must, or perhaps just international cooperation altogether. Then you can stop worrying about whether to make a trip around the world.

I doubt it.

As to names for an owl. . . Perhaps something from your History of Magic textbook, seeing as you actually started to like that class – or, at least, like the books. . . You liked it better than I did. Or maybe something from the Muggle world. Lenora? Syrena? Hedwig? Eva? Rowena? Nike? I can't guess which you'll like, though.

You really don't remember anything from the Last Dance other than talking?  
_Love, Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
Crossing my fingers. Although, I must admit, I don't really understand the reason why Muggles do that. You'll have to tell me one day.

Indecisiveness. I suppose it's one flaw you still haven't fixed yet. . . No, I'm just kidding. And I doubt anyone would challenge you about a Muggle-sounding name. You'd boss them to death, or just scold them. You've done it to the Marauders a fair few times, haven't you?

No offense taken. But . . . you . . . really don't remember anything?  
_Love, Remus_

_Dear Sariah_,  
I should hope I know you well, considering I've spent the last two years with you in my house. Do you still hate getting up early in the morning? I bet you do. It's not a habit you could grow out of easily, I think.

Well, I had guessed _one_ department, I might have gotten it wrong. Better to go with two. Hmm. Nice department to end up in, though. And you can't say my parents didn't warn you about how boring meetings can be in the Ministry, because I definitely know they did. And after a few hours? How long are the meetings normally, then? Never mind; I don't think I want to know.

But hopefully you don't turn out to be as boring as those meetings are.

All right, all right – I know, enough teasing.

An apartment in Diagon Alley? Nice. And good luck. It's hard to find placement for things like that, you know.

No. If you can't remember anything, neither can I. There's nothing that happened that night.  
_Love, Remus_

* * *

**15 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
I did try it. All I got was a glare, unfortunately. I think Syrena likes you much better, even though I named her.

My parents are fine. And James and Sirius are just fine. They actually haven't done anything worse this year than getting into a chase with the Muggle police force. Oh, never mind. That was also the day we ended up getting chased by Death Eaters. I hope you already know about it. If you didn't . . . please don't tell James I told you. I guess he's embarrassed we got chased in the first place. He's still sore about it, because Sirius teases him daily about it.

I thought you knew, seeing as he is your cousin.

Don't worry. James and Sirius bother Lily daily with teasing. I think you'll be well repaid easily between the Marauders.

See you then.  
_Love, Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
I'm sorry. It was Order work. Professor Dumbledore contacted me at the last minute, and I couldn't refuse.

But you're right, I can't tell you. We're trying our best to fight without losing too many members, and so Dumbledore's sworn most of us to secrecy. Half the time I have no idea what the other members are doing, and I don't either.

Don't worry about not joining right now. Professor Dumbledore's been bothering everyone he can get a hold of. And no, it's not going to be my funeral next. I don't have a mission for a while yet, I think.

How is that a failing? If they trust you enough to send you overseas, you'll move up the ranks in no time. Have fun in America.  
_Love, Remus_

* * *

**14 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah_,  
It's all right. From what I hear of America, you've probably had your hands full with trying to settle in and get all your work done. And to be honest, I've been so busy with the Order that I probably wouldn't have been that great of a pen pal anyways. You maybe would have gotten one or two words, if you were lucky.

But in any case: so are you moving on to a new position, now that you're back?

Oh dear. They chose _you_ as the maid of honor? I can see that Sirius and I are going to have a good laugh over that. Every little detail gone wrong will drive you over the wall – I can already see that coming.

Come on, Lily's choice for the Last Dance was lovely. I don't think you'll end up with a horrible dress. And of course you have to give in – she's the bride. It's _her_ day. When _your_ day comes around, you can put a Full Body-Bind curse on her and dress as you wish, and laugh when she's gets all horrified that you're not doing anything properly and not wearing the right clothes or playing the right music and so on.

Why not?  
_Love, Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
I'm warned, I'm warned! Trust me, I think I know I was getting into when we made the plan. And you can't say it didn't work, can you? Although you chasing after us in your gown would have made for some decent laughs. I think the ceremony was just too boring for Sirius, so he had to prank someone, and he decided on you.

Ah, don't burn it. It's lovely. And Lily spent a lot of time on it too.

It wasn't me, it was Sirius!  
_Quite warned, Remus_

* * *

**13 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
I, um, I had some . . . stuff to do. I'm sorry.

Yes, I had heard. James wrote to Sirius last week, I think. Although I must admit, it took a while for Sirius's shock to fade off enough for me to be able to get the words out of him. They've come a long way, haven't they, Lily and James. It seems like only a few years ago they hated the sight of each other – and now they're going to be parents. My, my. That poor child is going to learn the tricks of diplomacy immediately.

When is the baby shower?  
_Love, Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
A nice name. A nice normal name. Pity the child will never be that. . . Oh, I fear for whoever is entrusted with babysitting the lad; between James's mischief and Lily's skill, they'll have their hands full from the first day.

Ooh. Interesting move. Don't worry; I'm not sure it was the wisest move either. . .

Huh. That prize has _been_ won, Sariah. Won a long time ago, even if we don't count his exploits from his Hogwarts years.

I'm sorry. It's just . . . . Never mind. I'll try to make it to the next one.  
_Love, Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
In a few days, I think. We need to get it out of the way, and I need to find their will and sort through everything. If you wish to come, you're welcome.  
_Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
I'm sorry. I'm a little busy at the moment, what the funeral arrangements and my work with the Order. Maybe some other time.  
_Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
Yes, Sirius said much the same to me, and Dumbledore hinted the same at the last Order meeting. I think he even offered his own personal devices to try and help them be hidden; he knows that Voldemort fears only him. But Lily and James have trusted Sirius, from what I hear.

Yes, I know why.

I don't think anyone would betray Lily and James and Harry. But we do rightfully fear the Imperius Curse. An Order member just died a few days ago thanks to the Imperius Curse. And the signs are so hard to spot, and the curse is so hard to fight. Voldemort's reach is far and long nowadays; I don't think anyone wants to take even the slightest chance with their safety. But all we can do now is wait.  
_Remus_

* * *

**12 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
I'll see you at the funeral.

But never, ever doubt that this is worth it, Sariah. Don't you ever doubt it.  
_Love, Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
I heard. I can barely believe it either . . . But Sirus was the Secret-Keeper. No one else could have possibly betrayed them, not with the Fidelius Charm. It was him.

Don't worry. I don't think anyone will rest easy or forgive him either.  
_Love, Remus_

* * *

**11 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
What? No letter from you? That's strange. . .  
_Remus_

* * *

**10 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
How strange life can be. I think of you everyday, but I can't get up the courage to write to you. Every time I pick up the quill, I just . . . can't write. Or perhaps it's just my dwindling supply of things to write about. What can I say – I can't find a job? Things are worse than ever before?

No, I think it's best you don't know. Ignorance will protect you from being slandered by your friendship with me.

I wish every day for the sight of your owl – to see whether I can try, one last time, to write one last letter to you. To have the courage to say good-bye once and for all. But when every sun sets, I know no letter is coming. Ever since Lily and James died, things just haven't been the same. I don't think things will ever be the same again.

I don't know how this happened, or why, but it is what it is.

I miss you. A lot.  
_Remus_

* * *

**9 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah_,  
I don't understand why I'm still writing in your name at the head of this . . . well. It's not even a letter anymore. I mean, I haven't had any contact with you for . . . what . . . two, three, four years now? Ever since . . .

Never mind. This thing won't be sent off anyways. No sense in writing down what I already know about not having an owl to send this with anyways.

It's a pity this letter can't speak to you in my voice, or vice versa. There are so many things I could say. . . And it would be nice to hear a friendly voice for once. With Lily and James dead, and Peter dead, and Sirius imprisoned . . . it's getting lonely. And most everyone has married or has jobs; I barely recognized them anymore.

I haven't visited Lily and James's graves yet. I can't bear to. The nightmares are bad enough.

You've probably seen it. You were always better at dealing with emotions like that than I was. And, in some ways, I think you were closer to Lily than I ever was to James. But it would be so cold and barren now. . . No, I'm not going to visit their graves.

I wish you had been there. You would have known what to say to make me go, I think.

You always did.

I miss you.  
_Remus_

* * *

**8 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
I live more in the Muggle world than ever before. At least there I can get a job, not always steady, but a job.

I miss you.  
_Remus_

* * *

**7 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah_  
I think I miss you, and the rest of the Marauders, even more now. I was passing through Diagon Alley, and all they have are the new histories including the downfall of Voldemort – and the role of the Potters. It's rather painful, to think about it. I usually don't look.

I miss you.  
_Remus_

* * *

**6 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
At least I've had plenty of practices for excuses at Muggle jobs. They accept them a lot faster now. I'm getting better at that, at least. And if not . . . well, a good Memory Charm fixes things when it must.

I miss you.  
_Remus_

* * *

**5 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah_  
I wonder when these letters that were supposed to go to you turned into . . . _this_. We were so close, once, when we were still in Hogwarts. Once. I miss that closeness, sometimes, even though being a wolf means being a loner, especially if one has no pack of one's own.

I wonder what happened to that closeness. To us.

To everyone.

We're all scattered to the four corners of the earth, aren't we? You're . . . You're wherever you are, I'm here in the Muggle world, Peter is dead, Sirius is in Azkaban, Lily and James are at Godric's Hollow. What I would give for the old days when we could just laugh and eat and be together at their house on Sundays, even though I missed half the days for reasons that seemed so important – and yet seem so silly now.

Even with the war, at least I still had them. And you.

I miss you.  
_Remus_

* * *

**4 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
I miss you.  
_Remus_

* * *

**3 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
Harry would be old enough to enter Hogwarts now, wouldn't he? What I would give to see him, now that he's grown up. And I wonder where Professor Dumbledore has hid him all these years. I wonder if he'll choose the same classes as his parents. I wonder how he'll do. And I wonder if you've met him.

I miss you.  
_Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
Ah, I see Harry's continuing his normal path. The streets are already buzzing with the news of his heroism, even though the story's a bit mangled. All I can out of anyone is that he stopped Voldemort and did something or other with a Sorcerer's Stone.

Always tangled in something new. James did the same, first year.

Typical.

I miss you.  
_Remus_

* * *

**2 Years Before ****PoA**

_Dear Sariah,_  
I wish you could be here to reassure me that the black-haired boy in the photos of the _Daily Prophet_ is _not_ Harry.

Or perhaps, I wish James could be here, so he could see the curse he's saddled his son with.

Either way, it was a daring move. I wonder why the boy couldn't just have settled for owling Hogwarts, or perhaps actually taking the train, the way everyone else does. I suppose I'll never know. Although I do hope that his celebrity isn't going to his head.

I miss you.  
_Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
More rumors are coming about a Chamber of Secrets. That disturbs me. It makes me wonder at how uneventful our years at Hogwarts were in comparison. I hope the school survives this.

But at least they have Professor Dumbledore. He should help them.

I miss you.  
_Remus_

_Dear Sariah,_  
Hmm. Professor Dumbledore has put out a new ad for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher – again – but he's also sent a letter to me, specifically, requesting that I take up the job. I wonder why he chose me. I haven't exactly had a stellar career to recommend me for the job, even though I probably know more than is healthy about dark creatures.

But he promises Wolfsbane for every full moon, so hopefully I shouldn't do too much damage during the full moon. . . And hopefully the staff doesn't make too much of an uproar over having a werewolf teach students.

I suppose I might as well take it.

I wonder what's happened to you. I remember you always wanted to be a teacher, after a few internships at the Ministry. But the Ministry treated you well, and you got promoted. I wonder . . . Did you follow your dream?

I wish I could say I've followed mine. Alas, no.

So I suppose "teacher" will have to do for now.  
_Missing you more than words can say, Remus_

[end of letters for Remus Lupin]


	32. Chapter 30

At this point, about 16 or so years have passed, and we start anew when Sariah and Remus meet once again: Prisoner of Azkaban.

* * *

**_Chapter Thirty_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Albus Dumbledore_ ~  
"Professor Dumbledore? You asked to see me?"

I stood in my chair and smiled at the tired young man. It had taken a great deal of convincing to get Remus Lupin to agree to come and teach, and I was being very careful to ensure that he _stayed_ on staff. He needed the money, I was sure, and I needed a teacher – a _good_ teacher, for once. It was a win-win situation.

And not just for me.

As Remus ascended the stairs, I carefully pushed out of the way the short letter detailing Sariah's apologies for missing the Welcoming Feast. It wouldn't do to remind him of that.

I had seen the relationship between them blossom; I had even, on occasion, done my best to help it along. But there were some things I simply couldn't do. They would just have to do them themselves. And Remus, I knew, had no idea that Sariah had come to teach at Hogwarts anymore than he knew that Severus had.

_He handled Severus with grace. Let us see how he handles, instead of an old enemy, an old love._

"Welcome, Remus," I said warmly, extending a hand to greet him.

He, at least, gave me a small smile. But he was not the same young man, just come of age, who had left Hogwarts with a high academic record, I saw unhappily. He was thin, and there were dark circles under his eyes, pronounced gray streaks in his hair, and scars that escaped his ability to hide. Were there any students who knew what to look for, his condition was easily pieced together.

"I thank you for taking the risk, Professor," he said as he sat. "But I still am wondering about what we shall do in a few weeks."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

But Remus remained adamant. "I will not let a student be injured because enough precautions weren't taken," he said quietly, yet firmly. It was a trait many had admired in him as a schoolboy; he had the playful disposition of a Marauder, at times, yet he still remained grounded in cautiousness and careful thinking.

"Very well," I conceded. It seemed that it would be a while yet before Remus remembered what it was like to be around people who didn't care about his lycanthropy. "Professor Snape has already promised to brew you Wolfsbane Potion, as needed; we have all the ingredients here. We can have another teach substitute during the days you are ill, and I think with a few well-placed charms here and there, you can stay in the Shrieking Shack with none the wiser. Or," I added hastily, seeing his involuntary wince, "in your office. Whichever you prefer."

"Thank you, Professor."

Remus seemed startled that anyone would care to lavish the time and money it would take to brew Wolfsbane, but it seemed it was recovering. _We just need one last touch. . ._ I stole a glance at the clock and hid a smile. _Only a few more minutes._

I nodded briskly, as if it was business, and should be the rule rather than the exception that it really was. "Now," I said, "as to your curriculum – what are you planning to teach?"

As Remus launched into a carefully worded, hesitating explanation, I was barely listening. He had always been a fine student during his years of D.A.D.A. and I had no doubt he would do well. It wasn't like he was going to hurt his students purposely; he was far too careful to do anything of that sort. I didn't really need to hear what he planned.

Just in time, I heard quick footsteps outside, and the door was flung open.

Sariah nearly ran into the room, her face flushed with exertion, her eyes large and sparkling, her hair tumbling wildly around her. She moved straight to me without even to see Remus, and I smiled and rose to clasp her hand.

"I'm so sorry that I'm late," she said breathlessly. "My plane got held up, and I didn't really feel like Apparating – "

"Yes, you always hated that," I said dryly. "Was it after your third or fourth Splinch?"

Sariah made a face at me, still not seeing Remus, which I was perfectly content to allow . . . for now. It would give the poor boy time to recover, after all; he was still frozen, his jaw dropped, his eyes wide, halfway out of his seat in surprise.

"So, who is the new professor you've been chasing after?" she demanded, as eager as any student.

If there was one thing that hadn't changed, I noted with a laugh, it was her vivaciousness – exactly what had drawn Remus to her in the first place. Where he was silent and withdrawn, she was open and emotional, and where he was cautious and careful, she was spontaneous and impulsive. She was his opposite, and he'd loved her for it – perhaps, ever since they had kissed at their Last Dance seventh year, if the startled, faraway look in his eyes was anything to tell.

Yes, now was the time to get things moving.

I prompted, "Well, if you'd looked around before you barged in, my dear . . ."

Sariah looked round, and this time it was her turn to be startled out of equilibrium. She went pale for a second, her eyes widening in surprise, and in that my suspicions were confirmed: they hadn't had much contact since their last year.

"Um . . . hello, Remus," Sariah said, for once seeming without words.

"Sariah."

_Not too bad a start. Well, perhaps now is the time to withdraw._ I cleared my throat, and both of them looked at me as though they wished I could make an excuse for them to leave right now. _You'll have to deal with each other sometime._ "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have something to discuss with Professor Snape," I said, striding for the door.

_Now, it's up to them._

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
When I heard the footsteps racing up the stairs behind, they had struck me as oddly familiar, but I hadn't been able to place why. My senses were duller now that I was in between full moons, and I hadn't really held any friends long enough to feel the sense of old familiarity that I had. In fact, my first thought had been to get out of the way or find some way to excuse myself so that the Professor could deal with whatever business – apparently immediate business – would require his attention.

I had never, even in my wildest dreams, expected to see _Sariah Alycone_ burst through the door.

Her scent had filled my nose from the instant she had rushed at Professor Dumbledore, a smile on her lips as she greeted the man who had been her father figure ever since she had passed out of my parents' house.

I remembered that smile. And oh how I had missed it.

And as she had turned me . . . just shock. Plain, total shock. I could see it in her eyes, in her face, in her stance.

And Professor Dumbledore had grinned, had cleared his throat, had _walked away_ and left us to deal with the mess before us. I had known immediately then that he had probably set the whole thing up, and I wasn't quite I was entirely upset.

"I . . ."

Sariah seemed at a complete loss for words, and for a second, I wondered if taking up the job had been the right thing to do.

But I had agreed, and I wouldn't break my word.

I cleared my throat. "I see you accomplished your dream of becoming a teacher, Sariah," I said lamely, trying in vain to find something that would make her talk. "What do you teach here? At Hogwarts, I mean."

_Stupid, stupid, _stupid, I thought. _She knows this is Hogwarts._

The wolf seemed utterly too amused, and it was with great difficulty that I resisted telling it to shut up.

"Usually Advanced Ancient Runes," Sariah answered slowly, color gradually creeping back into her face as though she was starting to recover. "But sometimes I help Professor Vector with Advanced Arithmancy, or any of the other teachers with their subjects – except Snape, of course. It varies from month to month."

I realized she was babbling, and I felt a little less embarrassed. We both didn't really know how to deal with the current situation.

_Well, tell her!_ the wolf growled.

_Tell her what?_

The wolf gave me the equivalent of a very rude mental shove, and without even thinking about it, the first thought that had come to mind came tumbling out of my mouth.

"I missed you, Sariah."

She blinked in surprise, and I wished I could Apparate out. Or crawl into a hole. Or Vanish myself.

Pity none of them were options available to me right now.

Then she took three long steps and was suddenly throwing her arms around me, mumbling, "I missed you too." If she hadn't been so close, I wouldn't have understand a word she said, even with the wolf senses, but it didn't matter anymore, because I hugged her back without even thinking about it, wishing I could summon the courage to kiss her.

And just like that, the twelve year breach between us was mended.

Sariah pulled back, half-laughing, half-crying. "You look so grown-up, Remus – I barely recognize you. One would have thought you were a member of the Wizengamot or something. . . Very official."

I raised a hand to brush away the tears, smiling despite myself. "And you – you hardly look a day older." I pretended to measure her height. "Hmm. Only a few inches taller too."

She swatted my hand away. "Oh, leave me alone. We can't all have growing spurts that leave us two feet taller like _someone_."

"I'm not that tall."

"Really? I seem to remember a time when I was taller than you."

I scoffed. "That was in fourth year, Sariah."

"And you don't remember fourth year?" She _tsk_ed and shook her head, still laughing. "Apparently, you got taller and got a shorter memory to go with it instead of a better one."

After another, longer hug, Sariah finally drew back enough to give me a thorough glance over, and for a quick second, a frown marred her face as she noted the early grey streaks in my hair, the new scars on my face, and perhaps every other sign of how my career in the Wizarding world had failed to take off. Her disapproval for my treatment was clear in her eyes, even as she wiped her frown away, and my heart lifted – she still didn't care that I was a werewolf. And I was beyond thankful for that.

"You looked starved," was all she said. "Did you eat at the Feast at all?"

"Not much," I admitted. "And you?"

She shook her head. "I just came in, remember? My flight got delayed and – oh. But you were hear when I said so already, weren't you?" At my nod, she tugged at my hand, already halfway down the stairs.

"What – Where are we going?" I asked.

"To raid the kitchens, where else?" Sariah stopped at the door and tossed me a challenging grin. "Don't tell me you've forgotten how to raid the kitchens, Remus."

I crossed my arm. "How could I forget?"

She grinned. "Last one there is a rotten egg!"

It probably wasn't very mature of me to go chasing after Sariah and yelling her name the entire way down, even though I did beat her . . . within the last, oh, thirty or so steps. But I couldn't help it. And I was sure, even though I caught no sight or scent of Albus Dumbledore, that he was watching us with a very smug grin on his face.


	33. Chapter 31

**_Chapter Thirty-One_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
"So tell me how you've been," I demanded, waving my wand to dump the load of food we had gotten from the house-elves onto the table in front of the fireplace, start the fire in the fireplace, and lock the door.

Remus gave me an amused, if almost sad, glance. "Not so fast. I won, so you get to go first."

I threw myself on to the couch with a frown. "You cheated."

That got me a raised eyebrow as he joined me, acting every bit as old and mature as his appearance made him seem. Then again, Remus had always been the mature one in the group, tempered by his experiences as a werewolf, and a great deal more compassionate than most would have suspected as a result.

It wasn't a surprise. And the world hadn't been kind to him, if the dark circles and unnaturally skinniness I saw was anything to go by.

By contrast, my life had been a great deal easier. I knew how to pass for a Muggle, if times went bad, without unexpected interruptions during the full moon that knocked me out for days on end. I didn't have to tell any magical employers about having lycanthropy, which would mean an almost automatic rejection. All in all, I had a much better deal than him in terms of finding a job in the Muggle or magical world.

And yet he was still the same as he had been – gentle and compassionate.

"And how, may I ask, did I cheat?"

"You're evading my question."

"Funny," Remus said, throwing a pumpkin pasty at me, "I'd have said _you_ were evading the question."

I punched him in the arm. He didn't even wince.

I scowled. After spending so much time away from him, I'd forgotten just how much the werewolf was still present in Remus even in human form. "There are sometimes when I really hate you, you know."

He raised his eyebrow and leaned against the couch. Unfortunately, the light from the fireplace wasn't flattering; it just made him look even more tired and aged, if that was possible, thanks to his condition. Inwardly, I winced; his scars hadn't gone away – wouldn't go away – and if there was any student well-versed in werewolf lore, he would stand out even more than he already did with his shabby robes and thin frame.

"Sariah."

I jumped. "Sorry."

He sighed. "I haven't done as well as you, but I did survive."

I crossed my arms, unsure how to respond to his gentle yet pointed remark. Remus had always been better at verbal dueling than me. "How are the students going to survive you, then?" I teased.

"The same way we did when we were students, I imagine."

Now it was my turn to raise an incredulous eyebrow. "There's been no gang of four trouble-makers since the Marauders left, Remus. I mean, yes, we are cursed with the Weasley twins now and then," I closed my eyes and winced at some of the memories, "but they are nowhere near as bad as you were."

"We were not that bad."

"Seeing as _I_ was usually the recipient of your pranks, Remus, _you_ are in no place to judge."

He smiled at me, and I smiled back – and suddenly it was like we were students again, with nothing to worry about except being friends. No Voldemort, no Potter problems, no Order of the Phoenix to worry about. Just us.

It was a daydream, of course. Too much had happened – between us, between the Marauders, between the entire world – for things to go back to the way they were. Wishing for that was like wishing for immortality, a goal attained only through the narrow and very risky methods. It was useless to wish for something that would never happen.

But I could dream, for one night. And, besides, there was something that still needed to be said between us.

"I missed you," I said in the tiniest, softest voice that I could.

His eyes softened, and he reached out to cover my hand with his own. "I missed you too." And then his eyes clouded, as if he was remembering something unpleasant, and he took a deep breath. "Sariah, I – "

A knock at the door interrupted him, and we both jumped. Remus stood, frowning, his wand already in hand as he strode to open the door.

I stood too, noticing with slight surprise that my wand was my hand as well. I sighed. _Old habits never die._ I had never been on the front lines of the war against Voldemort, even though I had known many of the Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix who had fought and, mainly, died as a result, I still retained the habit of keeping my wand close and easily accessible. So too did Remus, it seemed, but at least he had an excuse for it, being a former Order member himself.

Professor Dumbledore stepped through, his brow furrowed with dislike, followed by Cornelius Fudge and two men bearing the insignia of the Ministry of Magic.

Remus took a quick back-step, realizing just as quickly as I did who had come with Dumbledore, and I moved to his side, stowing my wand away in my pocket. For now, I probably wouldn't need it, and Aurors wouldn't take kindly to having two wands pointed at them, even if it was simply in habit.

For a moment, Fudge stopped and stared when he saw me, but Dumbledore didn't even blink.

"I am sorry about this, Remus, Sariah," he said, "but the Minister has insisted on speaking with you, Remus."

Remus put his wand away, an impassive mask sliding over his face. "This is because of Sirius Black, isn't it?" he asked.

Fudge shuffled, seemingly uncomfortable with how quickly Remus had figured him out – or perhaps he was just nervous at being in the company of a werewolf who could see through him as easily as Dumbledore.

My breath caught. Fudge hadn't attended Hogwarts at the same time as the Marauders, but when the threats to the Potters had come about and then later when Black had escaped, no doubt Fudge had learned of Remus's former friendship with the murderer . . . and my blood relationship to him. And no doubt they were now attempting, as before, to make it seem like the Ministry was making some headway in finding Black.

"Minister, neither Remus nor I have any connection with Black anymore. Don't forget that he _murdered_ our friends," I spat.

Fudge flinched.

Remus put a hand on my shoulder. "It's fine, Sariah," he said gently. "They have to start somewhere."

One of the Aurors gestured out into the corridor. "Please, step outside, Mr. Lupin," he said, one hand opening the door as the other slipped into a pocket where, no doubt, his wand rested. Remus hesitated, and then followed, and I heard the interrogation begin with Remus handing over his wand before the door slammed shut.

"I'm, uh, awfully sorry about this, Miss Alycone," Fudge mumbled, twirling his bowler hat in his hands.

"This is ridiculous," I hissed. "Albus, there's no way – "

But Dumbledore held up a hand, and I stopped. "Peace, Sariah," he said. "Dawlish only means to ask him a few questions. And don't tell me that you believe Remus cannot handle himself against that, or anything else they throw at him."

I sighed. He had a point. Remus had scored higher on the N.E.W.T.s than I had, and I was sure that if things came down to a duel, verbal or magical, he could win easily.

But still, the discrimination was ridiculous.

I seated myself back on the couch and crossed my arms. "Why so nervous, Minister?" I asked sarcastically, as he mopped at his sweaty brow. "Afraid of a little girl and her werewolf friend?"

Fudge grimaced and replaced his bowler hat, as if he knew that it would do no good to deny my scathing question. "Well, Miss Alycone," he explained, "you of all people should remember the kind of relationship You-Know-Who had with the half-breeds. He often used werewolves to do his bidding. And Black was one of his highest lieutenants; if Mr. Lupin did work with him, it would help us to put both in Azkaban."

I bristled at the implication. _Just because Remus is a werewolf does not mean that he automatically sided with Voldemort!_

"Werewolves are not half-breeds," I said icily, my dislike for the bumbling Minister increasing by the second. "And Remus has always fought alongside the Order of the Phoenix, and _against_ Greyback."

"Yes, well, uh, the Order of the . . . what was it? . . . Order of the Phoenix was never a Ministry organization, Miss Alycone, so there is no official record of Mr. Lupin's – "

"Only because you denied him a position as an Auror because he was a werewolf," I pointed out.

Fudge blinked rapidly. "It would be unseemly to let a half-breed join – "

"And there we go again with that half-breed crap," I snarled. "A never-ending circle of prejudice that you serve only to propagate. What kind of Minister _are_ you, Fudge, when you don't even stand up for the rights of those who put you in – "

"Enough."

The word was spoken quietly, but I fell silent all the same. Remus stood next to Dumbledore, his face just as impassive as it had been when he had left as he stowed his wand carefully away in his pocket.

I felt myself flush. _How much did he hear?_

"Uh, done, are we?" Fudge asked distractedly, with such an expression of eagerness one would of that he'd won the permanent post of Minister.

Dawlish inclined his head and stepped outside.

"Very sorry, uh, Mr. Lupin, just, um, taking precautions . . ." And then Fudge was gone.

Dumbledore heaved a sigh, and his shoulders relaxed somewhat. "I am sorry about that," he said, and his apology sounded a great deal more genuine than Fudge's had. "And now, I believe, it's about time I left you in peace while I conduct the Minister and his friends out before they trip over the hidden step in the staircase."

I managed a small smile at that, which was no doubt his intention, and then, finally, we were alone again.

Remus put his hands in his pockets, looking for all intents like a schoolboy again, as he leaned against the wall. "Quite an impassioned speech there, Miss Alycone," he remarked with a smirk, mimicking Fudge.

I scowled at him. "Call me that again," I warned, "and I'll hex you into next week."

He smiled and stepped forward to rejoin me on the couch, and for the next few minutes we ate in a semi-awkward silence, until –

"Thank you."

I blinked, startled, and turned to Remus. His face was slightly strained, as if he was ashamed, but his eyes were clear as he gazed at me and repeated his words.

"You saved my life, remember?" I reminded him. "I think it's the least I could do for you."

He relaxed. "Can you do one more thing?"

I glanced at him warily, and noted the same mischievous glint in his eyes that I usually remembered as associating with Sirius or James. "What is it?" I asked cautiously. "Because you have that look on your face that tells me you're up to no good."

Remus blinked in surprise, perhaps at the fact that I was openly talking about something we both knew caused us pain, as we had both avoided talking about the death of James and Lily. Yet he pulled himself together all the same, mirroring my own impassiveness against the pain in my heart, and he replied, somewhat confusedly, "I thought only . . . James . . . wore that look."

"Which is why I'm not immediately agreeing."

He laughed. "I'm not that bad," he protested weakly. "I just want to know if you've seen a boggart lately that I could use."

"What?"


	34. Chapter 32

A/N: Obviously for this chapter, I mixed between the movie and the book, so all direct quotes either came from "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" the 2004 movie or Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban pg. 132-137, because I didn't feel like rewriting everything.

* * *

**_Chapter Thirty-Two_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
"Having fun with your shabby boyfriend back?"

I sighed, and resisted the urge to hex Snape. We had been both teachers for a while, but it didn't mean that we got along. We hadn't exactly been truly enemies when students – Snape's main rival had been James Potter – but we disagreed sharply over Dumbledore's hiring of Remus, and that had opened the old rift between us, especially since we had both known Lily, and I had chosen to side with the Marauders.

"Leave him alone, Snape," I told him. "Remus is doing perfectly fine. And he isn't my boyfriend."

"Could have fooled me," he muttered viciously.

I glared at him, but before I could open my mouth for another retort – or for the first spell I could think of – the door to the staffroom opened and a batch of scared-looking third-years moved inside, some even checking at the sight of Snape, others merely moving away towards the other end of the room.

Then Remus entered, and he cast a quick, warm smile before he made to close the door.

"Leave it open, Lupin," Snape drawled lazily, moving to his feet. "I'd rather not witness this."

I crossed my arms, unwilling to insult Snape just yet. Remus could handle himself. And besides, I wouldn't exactly make the best impression by resorting to childish grudges.

But at the doorway, Snape turned around, and my eyes narrowed, but all he said was, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult." His black eyes gleamed with malice. "Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

I stood abruptly, glaring at Snape, but Remus made a sharp gesture that I knew meant to back down.

Yet his voice was mild as he turned back to Snape and replied, "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

One boy in the crowd flushed deep red, and I assumed it was Neville.

Snape's lips curled in a smirk, but, faced with glares from half the crowd, he merely turned on his heel and left.

Remus looked to me, a question in his eyes. "Sariah, would you – "

I pushed my chair in and crossed the room to his side. "No, I think I'll stay," I said, perching on a bookcase off to the side. "This should be more interesting than grading essays, at any rate."

Remus smiled at me and led the class closer to where I was sitting, near the old spare robes wardrobe, which wobble alarmingly as they approached. I smiled inwardly; I knew what was in there, and now I definitely knew that the lesson would be interesting. And probably more informative than anything else.

Remus circled the back of the class slowly, hands clasped behind his back, judging the students' reactions. Some jumped backwards in alarm, while others studied the wardrobe, trying to figure out what it is.

"Nothing to worry about," he reassured them. "But still – intriguing, isn't it? Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what is inside?"

A Gryffindor boy raised his hand, and Remus nodded at him. "That's a boggart."

Remus smiled. "Very good, Mr. Dean." Then he shifted into his "teacher-voice" as preceded to explain, "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks – I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock." Remus's eyes moved to meet mine, and we both smirked; we _definitely_ remembered that incident, which had scared the wits out of Peter and left James, Lily, Remus, and I laughing so hard that Remus had barely had to choke out the charm to get rid of it before our laughter destroyed it. "_This_ one moved in yesterday afternoon," he continued, "and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give you some practice.

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what _is_ a boggart?"

A Gryffindor girl raised her hand. "It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It takes the shape of whatever we fear the most. That's what makes it so – "

"So terrifying, yes," Remus finished for her. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.

"This means that we have a huge advantage of the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

With a start, I realized that James's son was in the class, although it seemed that he was more startled than I was when Remus called on him.

"Er – because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

_He sounds more like he's guessing than giving an answer_, I thought to myself. _None of James's arrogance then. But certainly some of Lily's brain to guess quite correctly._

Remus seemed to agree. "Precisely," he said. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused; what should he become, a headless corpse or a fles-eating slug?"

I shivered and lost track of what Remus was saying. Both sounded rather nasty to me, and for a moment, I wondered what my own boggart would be. I had never seen it. But then again, this was a lesson for the students, so that question could wait for now. If I was undecided, I'd likely get a nasty shock at whatever the boggart would reveal itself to me as.

I was brought back to the class with a jolt when they all chimed, "_Riddikulus_!"

"Good," Remus said. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

_Go on_, I silently urged the pale boy. _Go on._

Remus always had had a talent for helping people get past their fears – probably because he was forced to face his on a monthly basis – but all the same, his encouragement would be go for this Neville, who seemed scared more of himself than anything else, and that was the biggest detriment for success in a young wizard or witch.

"Right then, Neville," Remus said cheerfully. "First thing first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you the most?"

I saw the boy's lips move, but no sound came out, and I frowned all the deeper.

_Snape . . ._

"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," Remus prodded gently.

"P – Professor Snape," Neville finally whispered, looking for all the world like Snape would pop out and grab him right then and there.

Remus laughed despite himself, but there was a strange look in his eyes that I knew meant he was reflecting on our schooldays with Snape. "Yes, Professor Snape," he murmured quietly. "Frightens all. Hmm. . . And I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Uh, yes, but – I don't want the boggart to turn into her either," Neville squeaked.

"No, it won't." Remus paused. "Can you picture her clothes, only her clothes, clearly in your mind?"

_Oh God, Remus. . ._ I started to grin. I knew exactly where this was going. _Oh, Snape is _not_ going to like this, Remus. . . But then again, I suppose it's fair comeuppance for Neville after three years under that bat's wing._

Remus bent over to Neville and whispered something in his ear that made Neville start in surprise, and I pulled my knees to my chest and leaned against the wall, barely able to contain my glee.

"Can you do that?" Remus asked. "Good. Wand at the ready."

And he and Neville withdrew their wands before Remus counted down and then opened the wardrobe.

Snape, dressed in his normal billowing black robes, walked slowly out, a confident smirk on his face, and his mouth starting to open to deride the boy when –

"Focus, Neville," Remus muttered.

And Neville raised his wand and squeaked fearfully, "_Riddikulus_!"

There was a bang, and a ripple of air, and suddenly Snape stumbled backwards, wearing a long, lace-trimmed dark green dress, a towering hat with a moth-eaten vulture, and an enormous huge red handbag.

Everyone burst into laughter, even the Slytherins, and Remus gestured for the students to form a line as he walked over to me and set the music starting.

"Next – Ron," he said, pointing at a red-haired boy who whimpered as Snape paused and started to whirl in a red-black ball. And then half the room shrieked or recoiled as the shimmering, revolving ball became a gigantic black widow spider, snapping its pincers fiercely as it moved slowly closer to the boy.

Remus muttered quietly beside me, ready to intercede, but there was no need – now the spider was trying to move with slippery tap shoes on each of its feet.

"Yes, yes, absolutely very enjoyable – Parvati, next!" Remus said, clapping and laughing along with everyone else.

And then the spider became a gigantic green spider, flicking its tongue and bearing its fangs.

Parvati's eyes widened in fear, and I even reached for my wand instinctively –

Remus put his hand on my arm. "Let her deal with it, Sariah," he counseled. "She can handle it."

I sighed and leaned against him as he took a leisurely bite out of an apple. "You have more confidence in them than I," I murmured. "And I don't like snakes. Or spiders."

Remus's shoulders shook with laughter, and I scowled.

And suddenly the snake was a giant Jack-in-the-box, and I relaxed.

"Well, it's one way to make them laugh," I told him. "But I don't think Snape will be so amused, Remus. Especially since I'm sure it'll be all over the school by lunch – or perhaps even earlier."

Remus shrugged, taking another bite. "Severus can deal with me however he wants," he said. "It's not my fault that Neville fears Snape the most. Who's – oh no."

"What?"

I looked from Remus's suddenly tense form to the next person in line, and suddenly I understood. It was Harry, staring at the Jack-in-the-box, and the only thing he could fear most would be the one thing that would cause mass panic: Lord Voldemort.

Remus flashed from my side to stand in front of Harry, and the Jack-in-the-box-turned-into-a-ball-of-darkness halted right in front of him, shifting and shifting until it became a cloudy night that parted to reveal . . . a full moon. Remus stiffened, but he played along, and then the cloud was a noisy balloon, zipping throughout the room and causing everyone to duck as it passed overhead. I leaped off the counter and pointed my wand at the wardrobe, causing it to open – this game was over now.

The boggart zoomed into the wardrobe and went still.

I sighed, and looked at Remus.

He put his wand away. "Uh, sorry about that," he said, for once sounding more like a classmate than a teacher. "You really can have too much a good thing – sorry, no that's it for now. If you would collect your books from the classroom, that's the end of this lesson. Sorry, sorry, go on now. For homework – kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it, due this Monday."

The class trooped out, groaning and conversing, with Harry being the last to past through.

I moved to stand next to Remus. "You're going to have to explain that to him, Remus," I murmured. "He noticed."

"He should understand. It's pretty clear – "

"And if we were the thirteen-year-olds?" I pressed.

Remus sighed. "I won't seek him out, Sariah. I know he hates the attention. He wants to be treated . . . like he's normal. But I suppose if he comes to me and hasn't figured it out yet, I'll tell him then, all right?" He took my hand, grinning at me. "Besides, this was fun, wasn't it?"

"Until Snape hears about it."

"Ah well. I'll deal with that when we get to it."

"I was thinking dealing with it during the full moon, but that works too."

"Sariah. . ."

"What?"


	35. Chapter 33

A/N: Um . . . well, this is awkward. But my writer's block often strikes at the worst of times, and usually for a long time, and I guess this was the result. Hopefully things will start picking up again now that the craziness of things like Hurricane Irene and power outages and snow in October and a bazillion snow days are *crosses fingers* over. In any case, I really have no excuse for shelving Princess and the Pauper for so long, so . . . yeah, I think I've wasted enough of your time. Here we go, and here's to hoping for less interruptions!

* * *

**_Chapter Thirty-Three_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
The first full moon of the school year, luckily, fell on a Friday – luckily for Remus, as there were no classes on the weekend and he could rest and recover from the grueling nature of his transformation – but also luckily for me. I was distracted throughout almost the entire day of my classes, and more than once made a mistake that I was lucky enough to catch before I messed the whole lesson up.

Needless to say, by dinnertime, I was very happy that the day was over.

For the first time, almost as happy as my students.

Dinner was noisy and crowded, as always, but I couldn't help noticing the way the third-years seemed . . . antsy and unusually unhappy. I frowned. And now that I could think about it . . . I scanned the entire dining hall. It seemed almost _all_ the students – except the Slytherin ones – were a bit antsy and unhappy.

It could have been the recent Hufflepuff-Gryffindor match that ended so spectacularly with dementors showing up and causing half the class to run away screaming and ended up with Harry Potter in the hospital wing.

Somehow, though, I doubted it.

Harry was moderately liked, but students were more likely to tease him for his fainting trick than to be all upset for him over it. They had been impressed when he'd managed to hold on to his bewitched Nimbus 2000 two years ago. But fainting and falling off said broom in the middle of a game was . . . slightly less spectacular. Even so, maybe on the Gryffindors might be antsy over it and their loss, not the entire dining hall of the Hogwarts student body.

"I let Severus substitute Remus's classes for today," Dumbledore told me, perhaps glimpsing my face.

I blinked. "Are you sure that was a . . . wise . . . decision?" I asked as delicately as possible. His grudge against the Marauders notwithstanding, I knew Snape would _love_ an opportunity for the students to realize what their teacher was.

Dumbledore didn't flinch from the accusation in my tone. "Everyone else had their hands full," he pointed out. "And Severus is an able teacher."

"I'll bet," I mumbled.

Still, I resigned myself to a handful of unhappy classes tomorrow, all bitterly complaining the unfair maniacal Severus Snape. It wouldn't be the first time. But usually my seventh years had Potions before Defense Against the Dark Arts, so . . . yeah, they would probably need at least half the class to get everything out of their system before we could start working properly. I sighed. _At least we're ahead of schedule_, I thought gloomily.

Not that Snape would particularly care. We were both half-bloods, but I was best friends with Remus, one of the Marauders, and had encouraged James and Lily. That was two strikes against me right there.

Dumbledore gave me a gentle chiding glance. "Severus and Remus are one the same side," he reminded me. "I'm sure that things will eventually clear their way up on their own. They've never really directly antagonized each other, and Severus handles things quite well on his own. As does Remus. I'm certain they can be trusted to act like adults."

"Professor, you trust _everyone_ to be able to act like a mature adult."

His eyes twinkled. "And don't they normally?"

I reached for my juice and took a long sip, considering his statement. "Only when you get lucky."

"Then I hope to be lucky once again."

I sighed. Sometimes Dumbledore could be even more annoying than James and Sirius combined – mostly because at least with the two Marauders, I could attribute their being annoying to them being underdeveloped and immature. Dumbledore didn't have that excuse. He just went out of his way to be as mysterious as he possibly could.

"Besides which, my dear, could you do me a favor and check up on Remus after dinner?"

I nearly choked on my dinner. "How did you know – "

"You are one of Remus's oldest friends. If you didn't check on him after dinner, I was worried I might catch you sneaking out after curfew."

"I am a teacher, we don't have curfews," I replied indignantly.

Yes, he had been headmaster when I was a student, and yes he had seen me practically collapse after the deaths of my parents. I wasn't a child anymore, though. And I most certainly did not have a curfew.

"The students' curfews, of course," Dumbledore said absently. "Now go on, my dear, I really do not wish to have to put out another advertisement for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher so soon. Severus is a good substitute, but . . . I do not think it advisable for him to be the full-term teacher just yet."

I rolled my eyes, pushed back my chair, and left the dining hall, heading straight for Remus's chambers.

His classroom was quiet when I pushed the doors open, but I had been expecting that. Transformations took a lot out of Remus, especially as he grew older and the shifts did not grow any easy. Potions and spells could cure a lot of injuries, but werewolf self-inflicted scars were hard. Not to mention that there was almost nothing that could touch the bone-deep ache of having bones broken and reformed, muscles stretched and yanked, skin pulled taut and punctured. Werewolves were dangerous, sure, but definitely not right after transformation.

I pushed open the door to his inner chamber. "Remus?"

"Sariah." He pushed himself up from where he was sitting, smiling tiredly. "Please, come in, it's good to see you."

In spite of everything, I smiled as I pulled up the chair. "Remus, I saw you yesterday," I reminded him. "It's not like we're miles away." _Again_.

"It's always nice to be polite."

"Uh-huh."

He leaned against the headboard. "But, no, really, it is nice to see you. Madam Pomfrey's been plying me with many potions, and I honestly don't wish to set foot in the hospital wing for another month at least."

I laughed. Remus had never liked hospital wings.

"Professor Dumbledore had Snape be your substitute," I blurted out, finally.

Remus's eyebrow shot up in surprise. Then he relaxed after thinking it over, and gave me an indifferent shrug. "He is qualified, I suppose," was all he said, readjusting himself to lean back in the bed with minimal effort and lighting a fire in the grate with a careless flick of a hand. "And someone does need to teach the students when I'm . . . like this."

I ignored his careful dance and leaned forward. "You had better solve their problems before they come to my class," I demanded. "I _refuse_ to have them walking in all whiny because Snape assigned them a six-foot-long essay."

"Did he?"

"No, of course not." Then I thought it over, and amended, "Well, maybe, they were bratty enough at dinner."

"Oh dear." Remus laughed, helplessly and slightly breathlessly. "Of course we would not wish to upset you, madam," he said, eyes twinkling as he somehow mimed bowing without so much as leaning away from the wall. "I shall take care of the matter and report back as soon as I possibly can, madam."

"Hush," I said, swatting half-heartedly at him.

Silence fell then, comfortable and easy. The ways things always had been between us. It had been awkward, at first, due to the years of no connection or communication, but Remus and I had always gotten along rather well, and it was easy to guess what he was thinking when I had spent so much time growing up next to him after my parents' deaths.

"Madam Pomfrey told me that Harry was in the hospital wing," he said finally. "Mind telling me why?"

I picked at the edge of my chair, trying to figure out how to word things. We had both been close to James and Lily, and we both cared for Harry by extension, although Remus had a stronger presence in Harry's life now because Harry wasn't in my classes. And I knew Remus had saved Harry from a dementor on the train, so . . .

Eventually, I shrugged. "He fell off his broom."

"He's an exceptional flier," Remus returned, crossing his arms. "It wasn't just that."

"Yeah. It wasn't." I fell quiet, remembering the horrible stifling silence of the arena when the dementors had showed up before people had started screaming. "It was dementors. They came onto the grounds for the match. And . . ."

Remus's eyes widened. Then he reached for me, without even asking, and I surrendered to be pulled onto the bed and lean against his comforting figure.

"Your parents?" he murmured.

I simply nodded, keeping my eyes on the fire. If I thought too hard on it, or looked up at him and actually saw the concern I could hear so vividly, then I might lose it, and I hadn't come here to lose it, I had come here to keep Remus company so that he could be back to teaching and recover from the full moon.

"I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

Remus fell silent, now, and I grew suspicious. Normally, he would spend a lot more time trying to make sure I knew that mourning my parents was not a weakness.

"Plotting something?" I prodded.

He nodded absently. "I think . . . I think that the dementors have taken a rather unhealthy interest in Harry. But there's little that can defend against them short of barring Harry from ever leaving the grounds or barring them from coming near him, which they'll never agree to do. . . And we can't exactly follow him around all the time."

"He already is being, what with the Black business," I pointed out.

"We can't be everywhere."

I leaned my head back to look at him. "How did you drive the dementor off on the train, Remus?" I wondered.

"Patronus Charm."

"Can you teach it to Harry?"

Remus's brow furrowed for a long moment. "It's very advanced magic, Sariah."

"Harry is a very advanced wizard."

Remus went silent again, thinking it over. He loved teaching – it was something he had always wanted to do, after becoming an Auror. Both paths had been barred to him due to his lycanthropy, however. But this – Harry _needed_ what Remus could teach. It was a completely different thing than simply teaching the boy in class, though.

"I'll think on it," Remus murmured finally.

"Thank you." I paused. "His broom was destroyed too. The Whomping Willow."

Remus stiffened. And then he laughed. "All right, maybe I do owe Harry," he conceded, laughing quietly. "Of all the things . . . All right, you win, I'll talk to Harry next class and see if he's willing to learn."


	36. Chapter 34

A/N: Did I mention it was my Midterm Marathon week? Nope, don't think so. Well, it's Day 2 right now, and we're coming up on Halloween, so time for some Sirius Black angsty discussions between Sariah and Remus.

And I think I might have messed up the timeline a little. Does anyone remember if Harry's Patronus training came before or after the Halloween scare with Black, because I honestly do not remember? If it does . . . whoopsie.

* * *

**_Chapter Thirty-Four_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
"How is Harry's training coming?" Sariah asked.

I didn't answer for a long moment, trying to figure out how to respond. The actual answer was: no. I had not yet approached Harry with an actual date, trying to rest after the transformation and then get caught up in all the schoolwork and . . . well, it had sort of started slipping from my mind. I would keep the promise I had made to him, because I kept my promises, but for now I wasn't actively working towards anything.

Finally, I swallowed my bite of pumpkin pastry. "No, not yet, Sariah."

She raised an eyebrow at me and threw back her long hair, making the lights from the fire sparkle in her dark hair. It was long, like she always had it, and for some reason it had me remembering the fiery little girl from our student years and –

And, well.

She hadn't changed.

"Why not?" Sariah pressed, too almost sickly sweet in warning of her about to pounce on me.

"I . . ." I looked away. I really didn't have a reason. Except . . .

"It's Sirius, isn't it?" Sariah asked quietly, her eyes darkening. "You hope that he hasn't realized that you were friends." She sighed, tucking her legs to her chest and resting her chin on them, a childish pose I hadn't seen her adopt in many years. "I seriously doubt that Harry will bring it up, Remus. For one thing, Dumbledore, Severus, McGonagall, and I are the only people who knew, and I highly doubt any of us will tell. For another, he's generally noted to be a quiet, well-mannered kid. You say so yourself."

I rested a hand next to hers. "It's not just that, Sariah. I need a boggart."

She blinked.

I grinned at her, waiting for the inevitable splutter of "_What_?" to break the silence between us. _Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . – _

"What? Why do you need a boggart?" she asked, clearly bewildered.

"I was speaking to Harry, earlier, after our first set of lessons. I stopped him from facing the boggart, on the assumption that it would transform into Lord Voldemort," I explained, seeing her inevitable, tiny flinch at the Dark Lord's name. Which wasn't surprising; she had been brought up to fear the Dark Lord's name and never speak it, although she at least was kind enough to never reprimand me for speaking the name as others tried to. "But he told me that when he faced it, before I interceded, his first thought was, not of Voldemort, but the dementors."

Sariah tilted her head, thinking. "He fears fear itself?"

"Exactly."

Understanding lit her eyes, and she leaned close to me, resting against my side and closing her eyes. "So you need a boggart to practice this Patronus Charm on," she finished. "I see. . . What is the Patronus Charm anyways?"

"It's a defensive spell, tailored specifically for dementors. It creates a . . . guardian, I suppose, formed on the basis of a very happy memory. And when you cast it properly, it is able to drive away the dementors because it cannot feel pain and the dementor is feeding of it, not its host." I brushed a hand along her hair gently. "But it's very advanced magic, Sariah, well beyond Harry's level. I'm not sure if I should subject him to a taste of hope if he cannot perform it."

Sariah frowned slightly, her eyes going distant. "Are Patronuses silver? And animal-shaped?"

"Yes. Why?"

"The Professor used it. I think. At the Quidditch stadium. I remember him sending a silver phoenix spell at the dementors. I thought it was just a repelling spell."

"It is. But for dementors."

"What's the incantation?" Sariah asked curiously.

I opened my mouth to tell her when there was a frantic knocking on my door. I reached for my wand instinctively, and then recalled myself and shared a look with Sariah. She shrugged; she clearly had no idea why or who was calling. Stowing my wand safely in my pocket, I released her, stood, and picked my way carefully to the door.

"Professor Lupin?"

It was Percy Weasley, the Head Boy. That didn't bode well.

"You're needed outside the Great Hall, sir," he explained immediately. "All the teachers are needed."

I blinked. "It's Halloween, what on Earth is going – "

"The Fat Lady is missing. And it is indicated that Sirius Black is responsible, and possibly still in the castle. A search of the castle is needed, immediately," Percy promptly answered.

I froze at the mention of Sirius's name. It had been so many years . . . and yet, here, still, Sirius had the power over me – over _us_. Yet to have the nerve to come here, to attack the Fat Lady, to invade _Hogwarts_, all in the name of a dead Dark Lord as he attempted to kill an innocent thirteen-year-old student?

He had sunk far indeed.

"We'll be along," I said, and then shut the door firmly in his face.

Then I leaned against the door and tried not to faint.

"Remus? Remus, what's wrong?"

"We're needed in the Great Hall," I mumbled when I sensed she had come up to stand beside me.

"Why?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath. "Sirius Black is in the castle, somewhere. He attacked the Fat Lady." The words were flat, monotone, and they sounded so . . . unnatural. Alien. I felt completely detached, like I was not the one saying them, someone else was, but they were said with my voice and . . . and _gods_, would things never work out well for the four of us Marauders?

Sariah inhaled sharply as though I'd kicked her. "What on Earth is he thinking?"

I didn't answer.

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
The search of the entire castle took up most of the night, and by that time I felt as though I'd walked the entire length of the entire castle, even though I'd really only searched the third corridor and part of the fourth, but my feet ached and my teeth ached from all the time it had spent clenched as I jumped at every shadow.

Not my best hour.

It didn't help, either, when Snape started yammering about Remus again.

"Remus wouldn't help an intruder – a _murderer_ – into the castle," I snapped finally, after Dumbledore had moved away.

Snape surveyed me with glittering black eyes. We still didn't get along well. At all.

"Perhaps you are a bit close to the situation."

"And you aren't?"

His eyes flashed. "I am more of an impartial judge than someone like you, who is blind to his every fault on the account of – " he sneered " – love."

"I can't believe – "

"Sariah."

Remus's firm voice stopped me in my tracks as he materialized by my elbow. He slid a careful hand over my own, nodded once to Snape, and proceeded to drag me away. Gently, but forcefully; clearly he had known that I wasn't going to be getting into any good if I was yelling at Snape, although I wasn't certain if he had heard our entire conversation.

"How much did you hear?"

Remus's face softened, and he came to a stop, turning to face me. "All of it."

"Gods, I'm sorry, Remus."

He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, his eyes soft. "It's all right, Sariah. It's not the first accusation, and it probably won't be the last. And you and Severus are perhaps too close to this."

I sighed as my anger crumpled. I was just overtired, and he was right; Snape and I were both perhaps a tiny bit too close to the situation to judge it effectively. But still – Remus would _never_ help Sirius break into Hogwarts, never. That, I knew I was not wrong in.

Remus tilted his head. "Some tea?"

"Yes, I can already feel a headache coming on."

He laughed and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead, hugging me once before releasing me and moving towards his chambers. "Then tea it is."

After a long moment, I said quietly, "How do you think Sirius got in?"

Remus shrugged. "I have no idea. But he's gone now."

My greatest fear: "Do you think he'll stay away?"

Remus halted so abruptly that I crashed into him, and whirled around, eyes fierce in the darkness. "He won't touch Harry. Or you. I won't let him, Sariah, I swear it," he said firmly, voice echoing in the dark corridor and sending shivers down my spine. Remus hid his werewolf nature well, but sometimes – like now – he couldn't help but display it.

"I know."

He relaxed. "Good."


	37. Chapter 35

A/N: Day 3 of the Midterm Marathon. Merry Christmas!

* * *

**_Chapter Thirty-Five_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
"So. Has Harry said yes yet?"

I didn't even bother to look up from the pile of essays that I was up to my elbows in, knowing exactly who it was and why the question was being asked from the moment that Sariah had stepped into the room. For one thing, everyone else knocked when they were coming into my classroom, even Severus. For another, there could only be one thing that such a question would be asked about. And anyways, it would be impossible for me to mistake Sariah's voice, enhanced werewolf senses nonewithstanding.

"Yes."

Her tone brightened. "When will you start teaching him?"

I raised an eyebrow at her and looked up. She was perched on the edge of my sofa, hair tumbling in a wild mess around her shoulders and face flushed pink from the cold. "Sariah, can I ask why you're so concerned?" I said as exasperatedly , smiling so she would know that I was merely teasing.

"There's another Quidditch match coming up?"

"Sariah."

She raised her hands defensively. "Remus, Professor McGonagall is already on everyone's case about it. She doesn't want her prize Seeker falling off again." A flicker passed over Sariah's face. "I think we all do not need a heart attack again."

I put down my quill. I was in perfect agreement there.

Sirius was Harry's official godfather, but . . . well, with Peter dead and Sirius incarcerated, I did feel a little responsible for Harry. And I knew Sariah felt the same, since she had been rather close to Lily.

"Well, whenever I find a boggart, I'll let you know."

"Do you want me to help?"

I smiled patiently at her. "Sariah, I really do think that I can find a boggart on my own. It's more a matter of chance than any particular skill, you know that. Although," I frowned, "I do wish I had known about it before I had had my third years get rid of it. It would have been easier than trying to search all the dark places in the castle."

Sariah tilted her head, as if considering another argument. I sighed inwardly. It was like the old times, I realized ruefully, where we spent more time poking holes in each other's arguments that trying to actually work together and be constructive. Of course, after we had peer reviewed each other, generally the finished product was a little better, but it also left behind rather bruised egos and a lot of topics that then needed to be refreshed or looked up. And bruised egos about the Patronus Charm . . . well, that would be nothing new, of course. It had taken me _months_ to get the hang of it, and even longer before I had had a corporeal Patronus form.

"What if the boggart doesn't turn into a dementor?" Sariah inquired curiously. "I don't really think a Patronus Charm is going to do much about You-Know-Who."

I frowned slightly. I hadn't thought about that. But . . . "We can't practice on a real dementor, Sariah."

"Maybe you should have him practice the charm beforehand," she suggested.

My frown deepened. It was true, that was the normal procedure. I had only used the Patronus Charm a handful of times, and I had mastered it long before any of them. But at the same time, Harry's reaction to the dementors was so fierce that I feared if he didn't learn to cope with a watered down version, he might simply collapse the next time he faced the real thing and never have the time to cast the proper charm.

"Sometimes you need motivation to produce the full-fledged charm," was all I said.

Sariah cast me a doubtful glance. "And what was yours?"

"It was something to do. In between jobs." I shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. I didn't really feel like admitting that I still, sometimes, harbored the dream of becoming an Auror, and that my studies still tended to be heavily Defense Against the Dark Arts, like all Aurors specialized in.

She seemed to understand what I implied, though, because her jaw stiffened ever so slightly.

Sariah had never been shy around me, before and after it had been revealed that I was a werewolf, and she was generally very indignant about the prejudice surrounding my condition. But right now I didn't feel like listening to her ranting about the Ministry. It was only a few days after Christmas, after all, and I had had unfortunately suffered a full moon the day before it, leaving me passed out for the entire duration of the celebration. So I had more important things to discuss right now than werewolf prejudices that I was more than used to dealing with.

I stood. "Can you wait for a minute?"

"Yes?"

I laughed and touched her shoulder as I moved past her to the stairs that led to my chambers. She sounded so wary; it was like she thought I might hit her with a Giggling Hex whilst her back was turned.

It took a few seconds for me to track down where I'd stowed her present away, but somehow, in those same few seconds, Sariah already had managed to pull out from somewhere – probably via a Summoning Charm or an Engorgement Spell – a rather lumpy wrapped package. It wasn't badly wrapped, just oddly shaped, and the glittery wrapping cast pinpricks of light all over her face and the room.

I smiled and leaned against the door. "You read my mind."

She grinned and threw the present at me. "I was wondering if you'd remember eventually," she said with a shrug. "But if you didn't, I planned on just dumping it on you anyways and then hightailing it out of there before you could hex me."

"I would not hex me."

"You hexed James . . . last time."

"That is because it was _James_," I remind her, carefully not completely the phrase as I automatically tried to. Before, it had always been _James-and-Sirius_, always. They were inseparable in almost everything and anything they did, and gift-giving . . . had been no exception. When the gifts didn't blow up in our faces, of course. Or run around yelling obnoxiously loud and rude poems. Or covering the entire room in glitter. Or transforming one's robes into sparkling mini-dresses. Or . . . Maybe Sariah had a point. "That doesn't count, Sariah, James's presents always caused complete havoc and you know it."

"Lily's did too, sometimes."

I shuddered. James and Sirius were daredevils on their own – _had been_, I corrected myself – but when Lily got into the game . . . Then it was like open season. "Don't remind me."

"I try not to remember either."

I sat down beside her, peeling away the wrapping as carefully as I could. And it turned out that I had been right; the wrapping was fine, it was just the package that was awkward and oddly-shaped, leaving the wrapping to look awful while really it was a fine job.

And my breath caught. "Sariah . . ."

I remembered these books. Well, I remembered the stories in them. But they'd been cleared out of the house when I had been first bitten, on the doctor's orders, to prevent me from "getting any foolish ideas from that Muggle trash". But I had still, always, been fascinated with the Muggle fairytales regardless. And these were beautiful . . .

Sariah peeked at me. "Are they all right? I wasn't sure if you – "

"Sariah, they've beautiful. Thank you." I looked up and smiled at her, seeing her relax ever so slightly. "Now come on, your turn."

She eyed the package in her hand dubiously before tearing into it, clearly not sparing the wrapping paper a single glance. Then again, Sariah always had been slightly more impatient for results than I had been, and –

"Oh!" Sariah gasped, lifting the delicate silver chain out of its cushion. A diamond shaped in the form of a budding flower hung from it, clear and sparkling like a star in the sky in the lamplight. I had helped Lily pick it out once, many years ago, never suspecting that she would turn around and tell me to give it to Sariah and then ask to at least date her, if not marry her, and also never suspecting that she would be dead a month later and that Sariah and I would thence be parted for over a decade.

Anyways, it seemed appropriate to give the gift to her because it had been intended for her now before something else tore us apart.

My stomach clenched uncomfortably. I didn't want to have to be separated from Sariah again. I missed her so much, and of course there was still the question of why she seemed to have no recollection of our kiss after the Last Dance, but I was willing to set it all aside if we could just . . . be friends. For now. For as long as possible, if Sariah didn't want to go any further, which I didn't think she did.

Sariah tilted the necklace, sending more pretty casts of light around the room as the diamond flower shifted and the chain twinkled sweetly.

"It's beautiful," she said sincerely.

I smiled, trying to calm my racing heart and biting back my first response. _I told Lily it would fit because it was beautiful and it reminded me of you. That's why it should be yours._ Instead, I said, "I'm glad you think so."

"Put it on for me?"

"Of course."

I had just clicked the latch when Sariah said, "Can I ask for another present?"

I tensed at her tone. It was that tone that told me that either she was plotting something or . . . plotting to plot something. Nevertheless, it never boded well. For me. Or for her, sometimes. Usually. "Can I ask what it is first?"

"I'm not James," she sniffed.

"No, you're Sariah Alycone," I said, unable to stop my faint smile. "And if you had been James, I would have said no immediately."

"Right." She hesitated. "Can you teach me too?"

"What?"

"The Patronus Charm. Can you teach it to me as well? I . . . I still have to go by the dementors whenever we go into Hogsmeade and it's . . . unnerving."

I reached for my wand. "Of course." I didn't want her near the dementors, but I couldn't stop her, and I could guess as to which memories they would drag up from the depths of her dark memories. "It's rather simple, Sariah."

I walked her through it, twice, and then had her attempt it.

Five minutes later she was still frustrated.

"It's so . . . insubstantial," she muttered angrily, gripping her wand so tightly it looked like it was about to crack, while wisps of silver-blue drifted lazily in front of her, refusing to coalesce into any kind of meaningful shape.

"It's better than my first try," I offered placating.

She flicked her wand and ended the spell. "Can I see yours? So when mine actually works, I'll know that it does and that I'm not hallucinating."

I laughed. "Oh, you'll know, Sariah."  
"Please?"

So I sighed, and focused on that brilliant bit of memory that I rarely ever thought about, tugging it out of the recesses of my mind until it shown before me, and tried very hard not to stare at Sariah, so much more beautiful now than she had been when we were seventeen and young and innocent, as I remembered the kiss that I never had forgotten even when she had, and said, "_Expecto Patronum_."

The silver-blue wisps flowed from my wand, smoothly joining to become a large wolf that padded forward and mimed sniffing at Sariah, who laughed in delight and tried to pet it, and then remembered that it wasn't quite fully corporeal in that sense.

And I leaned back, and added another snapshot to the growing treasure of warm memories of the woman I loved, laughing and beautiful, in the back of my mind.


	38. Chapter 36

A/N: Sorry for the lateness. But my ff account was not letting me post. Anyways. Day 4 of the Midterm Marathon. And Sirius Black strikes again. . .

* * *

**_Chapter Thirty-Six_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
I lowered _The Daily Prophet_ and folded it carefully. Once. Twice. Thrice. Until finally the image of a laughing, dirtied, insane Sirius Black was out of sight. Then I slid it under my plate. And then I carefully controlled the shaking in my hand as I reached for my cup, trying not to break down and spill everything everywhere.

I felt ill. And cold.

I had, of course, been reading carefully up on everything about Black, but it had started to become rather nauseating to read, over and over again, about Black's various crimes.

I still thought he deserved his Azkaban sentence. There was no question about that. He had betrayed Lily and James to the Dark Lord, broken his vows of friendship, had practically led them to their own deaths. And then he had proceeded to kill dozens of Muggles just to kill Pettigrew when the man had realized that Black was at fault. He had never denied it. He had only stood there and laughed and laughed and laughed.

And perhaps it was rather vindictive of me, but I had still thought that behavior like that deserved Azkaban.

But now, to learn that the Minister had given his permission for the dementors seeking Black to use administer the Dementor's Kiss if and when they found it. . .

That, I thought, might be going a bit far.

Try as I might, I just couldn't shake free from my mind the images of Black when he had just been students with me, with _us_. He had played pranks like no tomorrow and in general driven us up the wall – which was probably why we were so well-equipped now to deal with the Weasley twins – but he had still been a great friend, loyal, smart. And I just, still, couldn't reconcile the images of him as our friend and him as a murderer.

I finished eating dinner in a daze, and probably walked back to my rooms in a daze, because that was the only reason that Remus came after me ten minutes later and didn't even have to unlock my door.

"Something's wrong," he said, staring down at me where I was sitting. "Mind telling me?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Liar," he says affectionately, settling next to me on the bed. Then he sobered. "I'm guessing you read _The Daily Prophet_ then?"

I sighed. Sometimes, I knew for sure that Remus's talents were mildly wasted in him being just a teacher. Yes, he was a really good teacher, but his instincts would have served the wizarding population even better if he had been an investigative Auror. Of course, Remus knew me really well, so there was an argument against it, but he was good at judging students he'd never met really well too, which was why he was a good teacher.

"Yes."

Remus eyed me. "Well," he said finally. "Either you're becoming nauseous at the list of laws that Black is now breaking, or you're nauseous at the idea of anyone being subjected to the Dementor's Kiss."

I scowled at him.

He laughed at me, and continued, "And knowing you, I would go with the latter. Am I getting close?"

I resisted the urge to hit him. Somewhat. Barely.

Then his words sunk in, and oh God, Sirius, subjected to the _Dementor's Kiss_ – Sirius, my so annoying cousin that we'd loved anyways, the one sane pureblood in a madhouse willing to stand up for what was right, the one who'd teased me incessantly and made me laugh and . . . and just be _me_. That bright soul – I had had trouble seeing him stained with a murderer's label and the Potters' blood. Now to know it would be sucked away from him altogether. . .

I wrapped my arms close around myself. "It's one thing to condemn him to Azkaban, Remus. It's another to know he'll be soulless."

Remus's face grew grim. "I know."

I peered at him. "Do you agree with Fudge's order?"

"It's not my place."

I nearly laughed. Out of all the people alive, besides Sirius himself, only perhaps Harry rivaled Remus's closeness to the Potters. Or maybe me. "Remus, if it isn't your place, whose would it be? Harry's?"

"Well, no, but . . ." Remus shifted uneasily on the bed, his gaze drifting over to the fire and then wandering about, unable to settle, flicking from place to place in discomfort. "Sariah. I'm not involved with the justice system. It is not my place to determine who suffers what. My closeness to the Potters notwithstanding, I don't think there is much say I might have, not with my . . . condition."

I scowled again. "They would be fools to not involve you. You're just as close to the Potters as I was."

"Not really."

I leaned playfully against him, taking comfort in the solid warmth of his body, and felt his arm slip carefully around me in return. We had both lost a lot because of Black's murder spree, and it was nice to know the other knew exactly how we felt without needing words to convey it.

Words could never fully capture what we had lost, after all.

"I don't know if he deserves it," Remus said suddenly.

"What?"

"The Kiss."

I lifted my head from his shoulder. "Why?" I asked. I wasn't angry, but I was curious. Remus had been closer to the Marauders than me, after all. But he had so far shown remarkable restraint as to how he felt about his best friend murdering two of his other best friends. I had made my feelings clear in the months I had mourned Lily; he, not so much.

Remus sighed. "It seems so . . . inhumane. As gruesome as the murder was, I just . . . find it hard. To condone someone's utter destruction like that, I mean."

Silence fell for a moment.

Remus had a point. Despicable as the murders had been, I still felt nauseous at the idea of stripping someone of their soul, no matter their crimes. Apparently, we were more in tune than we'd thought.

"I agree."

Remus smiled at me. "You don't have to."

"I'm not saying it because of you." I exhaled. "You were right. Earlier. I find it hard to picture Black as deranged enough to warrant a Kiss. Maybe you were right. Maybe this is why we can't be involved in the justice process for Black. We're too close. To the situation, I mean. Although I still don't think I would ever decide to take someone's soul away."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Remus said. "It's not."

My lips turned upwards against their will, and I leaned against him again. For some reason, his words made more butterflies go flying about in my stomach.

We sat in silence for a long moment, but it was comfortable. On this matter, we were in accord.

Then Remus looked towards the clock. He stood, suddenly, and produced his wand from an inner pocket of his robes. "I'm sorry, Sariah, but I'm on patrol tonight," he said apologetically. "See you in the morning?"

"Yes," I said, and hugged him before he pressed a chaste, brotherly kiss to my head and departed.

Five minutes later, knocks resounded on my door.

"Come in!" I called, not bothering to turn from where I was tending to the fire. "What did you forget, Remus, I didn't think you'd left anything behind or I would have followed you my – "

"And where _is_ Remus Lupin, Professor Alycone?"

I whirled around.

Minister Cornelius Fudge. Definitely _not_ Remus, then. And definitely not looking like he had good news.

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
I finished off my last round and headed towards the staffroom. With my patrol done, I had time to perhaps catch a bit of sleep before classes started. After I checked in that nothing was wrong, I fully intended to head to bed.

Then I realized that the staffroom was a total, chaotic _mess_.

Teachers were moving in and out, flickering past me so quickly I could have sworn they were Apparating.

And –

"Sariah, what's wrong?"

I moved instinctively to her side. She was sitting in a chair, hands clutched so tightly in her lap that her fingers were white. Her face was pale, and when I rested a hand on her shoulders, she was cold, perhaps because she wore nothing but a thin dressing gown over her sleepwear. She seemed dazed, as if in shock, and it made my heart stutter in my chest.

"Sariah."

She finally looked up when I shook her, gently, and managed a tiny smile. "Remus."

"Merlin's pants, you're cold," I scolded, shedding my own cloak and draping it carefully around her shivering frame. "Why are you out of bed? What's going on?"

"Remus Lupin."

I looked up warily, turning to face the Minister, and barely managed to conceal my surprise. "Minister."

"Are you aware that only a short while ago Sirius Black broke into the castle again?" he demanded. "And actually made it _into_ Gryffindor tower, and into the boys' dormitories?"

My heart went cold.

"When – When was this?" I forced out the words past numb lips.

I had known, objectively, that Black had gone insane, to kill James and Lily. To receive glaring, further proof of it, to know that he had come to Hogwarts to finish the dead – that was quite another story.

Fudge scowled. "About thirty minutes ago, actually." He glared at me. "Spit it out, Lupin. Are you helping him?"

"Minister, Remus would never – "

"Enough, Alycone, you're being questioned too," he said sharply.

I fought back the instinctual surge of anger at his words, and instead settled for resting my hand on Sariah's shoulder, taking comfort in the fact that she would still defend me against everything and anything. I would do the same for her, of course, but affirmation of our bond was always nice.

"I have not helped Sirius Black," I said clearly. "I would not. He is a madman, and deserves his sentence for his work. I would not help a murderer, much less any follower of Lord Voldemort."

Fudge flinched.

Then Professor Dumbledore appeared, as if by magic, but he seemed slightly worried. "Innocent until proven guilty," he announced quietly, but his words seemed to hit Fudge the most. "No professor in this school would help Sirius Black gain entrance to it, Minister. Of that, I have no doubt at all." He cast us a glance. "Especially not these too. They lost friends too during our war with Lord Voldemort, Minister, and you would do well to remember it."

"Just being careful," Fudge muttered restlessly. "Well, then, good day. Carry on."

Sariah stood, her face still pale. "Remus, I don't know why they keep – "

I turned to her, gripping her still cold hands, momentarily forgetting Dumbledore. "It's all right, Sariah. I was closer to Black than you were. I don't blame them for being careful." I drew her close. "Are you all right?" I asked softly.

"Yes, of course."

I squeezed her hands gently. "Come on, we still have a few hours to catch some sleep before classes start."

"I'd suggest you _both_ get a good night's sleep," Professor Dumbledore said.

"Of course."


	39. Chapter 37

A/N: Day 5 of the Midterm Marathon. Hello, Marauder's Map!

* * *

**_Chapter Thirty-Seven_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
Something was off today.

First, I had been walking down to the Great Hall when _Draco Malfoy_ of all people had been practically shrieking at the top of his lungs as he ran full tilt across the hall, mud splattered all over his face and robes and hands, acting like wolves were running after them.

Then Snape had been snarling and storming all over the place, practically dragging Harry around by his ear and muttering inanely under his breath the whole way.

And now – now Remus was whirling around in his classroom, face tight and impassive, angry in a way I hadn't seen him in a very, very long time. It was well-contained, because Remus knew what happened if a werewolf lost his or her temper and the approaching full moon certainly didn't help, but it was still there and strong and slightly frightening. It was rare that something bothered Remus enough to get this far.

I leaned against the door. "Remus?"

He stiffened at first before relaxing, halting next to his desk and leaning wearily against it, as if the anger draining away had taken away his energy as well. "Sariah."

Silence.

"Well, shall I ask or will you just let me know all the juicy details?"

Remus blinked, thrown. "I beg your pardon?"

I pushed myself off the door and walked towards him. "Remus, you haven't been this upset since Greyback attacked us in Hogsmeade," I pointed out. "So. Someone has clearly messed up priorities if they've managed to provoke you this bad. Are you going to tell me, or shall I start randomly naming any and all of our former school enemies and hexing them until you finally settle down because justice is served?"

His lips twitched, and the tension faded away from his shoulders completely, He ran a hand through his hair, looking distractedly down at his desk, and then picked up a piece of paper and folded it carefully shut.

"Keeping secrets?"

"It's not mine to tell," he said shortly.

I accepted the reason. Remus rarely lied, and he held promises as sacred as anything. If there was something he was keeping from me, generally it had a good reason. Stupid, maybe, like his irrational fear of me finding out he was a werewolf, but when applied to others in general, perhaps rather logical.

Or perhaps it was just a momento he didn't really want to think about.

Either way, though, it wasn't why I had come.

"Do you have idea why Snape is biting of all of my students' heads?" I asked, changing topic. "Or why Malfoy just ran down shrieking like a banshee with mud all over?"

Remus smiled slightly. "Severus already consulted me on the matter. It appears that Malfoy saw Harry's head floating in Hogsmeade during a tussle. When he confronted Harry, he confiscated _this_."

And out came the paper.

I didn't take it. "You really want me to see it?"

Remus's smile turned sly. "I don't think it will do you any harm. It wasn't written for you, after all."

I cracked open the paper. "What do you – Oh my _god_, Remus."

The paper was covered in insults about Snape, growing ever steadily ruder with each variation, commenting on everything from his nose to his hair and back again, as though the paper was _determined_ to cover every single angle of attack we had used during our school years at Hogwarts – and perhaps elevate the level of insults even higher.

I started laughing, helplessly, even though I knew I shouldn't, but _god_. . .

Remus's grin widened and he laughed too, short but just as helplessly, before he carefully took the paper back and stowed it away, presumably for good this time.

"All right, how did Harry have that and where did he get it? I need to restock on my insults."

His eyes flickered momentarily. "I have no idea where he got it. I assume he filched it from somewhere, or perhaps has been dabbling in Jonko's Joke Shop." Then he shrugged. "But Severus asked if I could take a look at it for 'Dark Magic'."

I raised an eyebrow. "He only thinks that because it had the gall to insult him."

"Most likely."

That was about when I realized –

"Harry's not supposed to be in Hogsmeade, is he? I heard Professor McGonagall discussing it, they're actually relieved that he can't."

Remus shifted uncomfortably, and that was all the answer I needed.

I sighed. "James's Invisibility Cloak?"

"Also most likely." And then it was Remus's turn to raise an eyebrow at me. "I didn't know you knew about his Invisibility Cloak. Who told you?"

"I could ask you the same question."

Remus snorted inelegantly, folding his arms across his chest and leaning comfortably against his desk. I perched myself on the edge of one of the chairs and rested my elbows on my knees, relaxing. We were both teachers, and yes any student could wander in right now, but before that, we had been friends and possibly might have been something closer had I ever had the nerve to admit that I'd liked Remus and not merely as a friend. And I liked these moments of calm and closeness, where we could just be Remus and Sariah again.

"The year we found out how to get to the kitchens," he answered finally. "Filch nearly caught us, and James whipped out the Cloak, and the next thing I know they're frog-marching me to the kitchen. You?"

"Day after the wedding prank. I nearly Splinced myself." At his confused look, I elaborated, "He snuck up behind me when I was getting ready to leave and decided it would be a grand opportunity to cast a Hiccup Charm on me. I nearly hexed him into next year, but Lily begged me not to, so I settled for turning his hair pink."

Remus burst out laughing. "You did _what_?"

"Don't you dare tell me he didn't deserve it, or _you'll_ have pink hair too."

He raised his hands in mock-surrender, still laughing helplessly. "Dear Lord. How long did it take him to fix it?"

"Three days. Lily finally took pity on him."

"Ah, of course."

I avoided the obvious elephant in the room: the fact that Remus had skipped the wedding entirely, without a single word of explanation or even a gift to make up for his absence. Some people had been relieved that the werewolf had not attended; others had started uneasily murmuring about maybe there _was_ someone close to the Potters who had turned traitor.

I squashed the thought down. It was unimportant. The spy had been Sirius, not Remus.

"How are Harry's dementor lessons coming?" I asked instead.

"Well, he's managed to produce an incorporeal Patronus. It should be at least enough for him to delay the dementors long enough to land, if it comes to that, or for Professor Dumbledore to send them off. And it's remarkable progress for someone so young anyways; usually they can only produce wisps here and there."

"Like me?"

"Sariah, you produce an incorporeal Patronus too."

I snorted. "It looks like wisps to me."

Remus sent me a smile that was probably supposed to be placating and ended up heavy and warm and sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach. "I produced wisps at first, I know what they look like. Yours is the real thing."

"I wonder what animal it'll be," I said after a moment.

"I think . . . a fox."

"Remus!"

"A fox is clever and good at tricking people," he said remorselessly, trying to hold back his twitching lips that suggested he might laugh. "It fits you, Sariah. It fits you a lot."

"I'll have you know that I only tricked the Marauders."

"And I'll have you know that I know that that is most definitely a lie."

I stuck my tongue out. "I hate it when you can read me so well," I groused. "You're too good at reading body language."

He gave me another butterfly-inducing smile, gentle and soft. "No, I just know you really well."

"It's still bloody annoying."

"I would imagine." He straightened and took a step towards me. "Here, try it again. And if it doesn't work, tell me what memory you're using. Maybe it's just not strong enough, that's all. I had the same problems at first."

I closed my eyes and concentrated, as hard as I could, at the stomach-jerking joy I'd felt when I'd been sent over to America and found myself facing the prospect of actually _travelling_ and meeting new witches and wizards, and it had been glorious, and even now it made me feel warm and happy inside remembering it.

The silver-blue strands glowed as they twisted in the air, hovering but failing to properly coalesce as they always did.

Remus tilted his head. "Maybe a stronger memory?"

I shuffled through the memories that came up when I thought _happy_. There weren't many that were stronger than the one I was using. I had been oblivious with joy when Lily and James had married, but that had been tainted first by Remus's absence and then by the pain of their deaths. Other memories were similarly tainted, especially childhood ones that I couldn't think about without remembering the pang of my parents' death. But there was something . . .

It was so, so blurry I could barely recall it.

But there was joy and happiness and an emotion I couldn't name, and I thought about it so hard that I _thought_ I felt the ghost of lips against mine and bright blue eyes and warm arms around me –

"Sariah!"

I opened my eyes and nearly fell over in shock.

A wolf paced in front of me, head held high, regal and powerful and beautiful in her strength. She wasn't tall, but she radiated confidence and power, and I knew that she would be able to drive off a dementor if I needed her to. And, I thought a little giddily, she was _mine_.

Remus smiled at me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "So, what memory was this one?"

I touched my lips as the Patronus faded. So strange. For a moment, I had remembered _something_, something I vaguely knew was important, something just beyond my reach. . . But then I was left with only the faintest memory of a ghost of a memory, and it was all I had to call on, but it was the happiest I had ever felt, and my lips still tingled as if someone _had_ kissed me, and my mind couldn't recall it but my body could.

"I . . . I don't know."


	40. Chapter 38

**_Chapter Thirty-Eight_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
"Remus, I'm sorry, I – "

I came to a total halt, blinking in surprise. The room was completely, utterly empty, and silent – not even the fire was crackling in the grate, and the chair at the desk was lying on its side, and a goblet was resting on the desk in front of a crinkled paper that covered half the desk. But the bed was undisturbed, and the bathroom was open, so he was nowhere to be seen.

"Remus?"

Normally, we tried to spend some time together that didn't involve mealtimes or breaks. In this case, usually we ended up reminiscing in his quarters or swapping spells.

But Remus had never before done this – vanish without telling me.

I leaned against the door, looking for any kind of note that might explain his absence. Yet nothing appeared out of place, except the hastily thrown aside chair, as though something had startled Remus so much he had stood and run out the door without even pausing to properly lock his chambers – something that was again very much not like Remus. And he wasn't on patrol tonight, because assignments for that were handed out early enough for him to have told me if he was and couldn't make one of our meetings, and because it was the full moon.

I never stayed with Remus, despite the fact that he had full confidence in the potion Snape kept brewing for him. He felt it was too dangerous. So he generally kicked me out and made faces at me every time I showed up.

It wasn't I could _stop_ showing up, though. The transformation into a wolf and then the transformation back into a human _hurt_ Remus, drained him horribly. I didn't stay throughout the entire night, but I made a point of spending time with him before and after, to pick him up off the floor after a transformation and to remind him that werewolves weren't monsters. And Remus would never be a monster, not to me.

That was when I noticed that the goblet on his desk was _smoking_.

At first, I thought something was on fire.

Then, as I rushed forward and pulled my wand out, I realized that it was simply Wolfsbane Potion.

I frowned.

Remus had been very diligent about taking the potion. It didn't quite help with the pain, but he'd already confessed that it was nice to be in control of his own mind during the transformation. He didn't bite himself or scratch himself or bash into walls; he could just relax, lie down, and snooze until the moon sunk and he turned back into a human, perfectly fine except for his aching muscles.

Of course, Remus had also complained that the potion tasted like the most disgusting thing he had ever put in his mouth, and that he sincerely regretted that he had to drink it for a week in advance, and that sugar only rendered the potion useless. I hadn't commented on that bit.

I flicked through the papers on Remus's desk, trying to see if there any kind of note or letter that would tell me why he had run off and –

Something moved.

I shoved aside a pile of papers, and my jaw dropped. There was a piece of yellowed old parchment paper, with neat lines and letters inked into it, right next to dots. That were moving. And the lines formed rooms that I recognized as Hogwarts, right down to the kitchens and all the way across the grounds, even as far as the Whomping Willow. In one of the corners labeled "Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom", I could see a dot labeled "Sariah Alycone" – me. I unfolded the map further, and my astonishment rose as I crossed the Great Hall, noting the large number of dots there and recognizing almost all of the students.

A current map of the Unplottable Hogwarts.

And it was Remus's.

At least, that was what I thought until I read the title branded smugly across the top in fancy loopy writing. "Mssrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present the Marauders' Map."

The Marauders.

Moony.

Wormtail.

Padfoot.

Prongs.

_Moony_.

I closed my eyes and tried to hold back my urge to bang my head into the desk. I knew what those terms meant. I hadn't been included in their little exclusive circle, but – I had spent more than enough time with Remus and Sirius and James to have absorbed some information. Like the fact that they had nicknamed their group the Marauders. And that they all had some strange nicknames for each other, although where the nicknames came from I had no idea.

Like Moony. For Remus.

So somehow they had drawn a map of Hogwarts. I traced a finger down a passage leading into a room behind a mirror, amazed. The map even showed the secret passageways out of Hogwarts. . .

A dot moved frantically across my vision, and I read the label as "Severus Snape".

I frowned. _Why is Snape running around towards the Whomping Willow?_ Then I peered closer, and realized he was running _up_ the Whomping Willow, towards a cluster of dots standing so close together that I could only get three names.

Harry Potter.

Remus Lupin.

Sirius Black.

All the breath left me, and in the next moment, I whirled around and tore for the door, not caring that I'd probably bowl over a student and look terribly undignified. Sirius Black was _here_ in Hogwarts – and Harry was there, and Remus, and if Black was half as dangerous as he had been thirteen years ago, I knew that Remus would probably end up dead very shortly. Black had already proven how far he was willing to go, and how little he cared about the people standing in his way. He had blasted Pettigrew to _pieces_, after all. Pieces. Of which the biggest left was a finger.

Fear constricted my chest to the point where I was practically out of breath as I sprinted towards the Whomping Willow. There were people standing around outside of it and –

Black.

I would have recognized him with my eyes closed. He was dressed in ripped robes, and his hair and skin was filthy, and he was ungodly thin. And he held a wand in his hand – loosely, but still, the fact that he even _had_ a wand –

Harry was standing next to him.

I was raising my wand and preparing for the incantation – although which, I wasn't yet certain – when a strong hand wrapped around my wrist and forced it down.

"Sariah, no!" Remus said sharply, yanking me around and off balance.

For a moment, I gaped at him. He couldn't be _serious_. He had heard about Black's crimes – he had been friends with Lily and James too – he _knew_ Black was an escapee from Azkaban, a prison Black rightly deserved for his murders of Muggles and wizards alike and his allegiance to and spying for the Dark Lord.

Then I pulled away. "Remus, think!" I exclaimed. "This is the man who _murdered_ Lily and James! How dare you let him near Harry?"

Remus tightened his grip on my wrist, refusing to let go, and I gasped, having forgotten once against just how _strong_ a werewolf was, especially compared to a normal human and especially on a full moon. Short of cursing him or breaking my own wrist, if he didn't let go, I wasn't going to be able to pry my wrist loose from him. And the determined expression on his face only solidified it; he was not letting go, not without me doing something drastic.

"Sariah, you need to _listen_ to me," Remus said sharply, shaking me. "That wasn't Sirius's fault, _listen to me – _"

I gaped, shocked. "Sirius was a _spy_!" I shouted. "A spy for the Dark Lord! He's the _reason_ that Lily and James are dead! How can you tell me it wasn't his fault? How can you stand here and just let this happen? _Did you even love Lily and James?_"

Remus's face went cold and impassive, and then he swung me around abruptly, hands tight on my shoulders. "And look there, Sariah, and tell me who I see."

I scowled, trying to shake it off, but then Hermione – and where had she come from? – stood and prodded at some weird shivering bundle of clothes at the foot of the Whomping Willow that I hadn't noticed before, and it was a person, a person who was turning their face just in time for me to see his face –

I went still.

"_Peter Pettigrew?_"

I couldn't believe it. He was supposed to be dead. Dead, and blown to pieces. _Dead_.

Remus's hands loosened on my shoulders, rubbing gently at the bruises that were starting to form, before he released me completely and stepped around to look me in the eye. "Do you understand now?" he asked, voice soft and eyes intense.

I looked at the ground, and took a deep breath. Pieces were starting to fall into place now, and they were making up an even uglier picture than the one I had thought was the truth. If Pettigrew was alive – if Sirius _wasn't_ guilty – if Sirius hadn't been the _spy_ – then that could only mean one thing: the roles had been switched.

I turned to Sirius, who was staring at me with a mix of trepidation and wary fondness. "You switched," I said, and I was amazed at how calm my voice was. "You told everyone you were to be the Secret-Keeper to lay a false trail, in the hopes that the Dark Lord would come after you, and then you gave the role to one person we would never suspect to fulfill the role. Didn't you?"

Sirius bowed his head, and I got the faintest trace of tears in his eyes. "I thought – I thought it would keep them safe," he said, his voice croaky and anguished.

"God – _Sirius_ – "

And I ran forward to hug my cousin, ignoring the ripped robes and dirty hair. For a long moment, he tensed, but then he relaxed, and his arms came around me like they had once so many years ago, when we were both just seventeen years old and dancing at a wedding we hadn't known would be our last happy memory for a very long time.

"I've missed you," I whispered, and his arms tightened.

"Me too, Sariah."

Then I released him, and frowned as I finally _looked_ at him. He looked awful, as if the years of Azkaban had been piling onto his shoulders along with the guilt Lily and James's deaths and taken away some of the light in his eyes until I could barely see a spark of that mischievous side.

"You look awful."

"And you," he replied cheekily, "look beautiful. As always."

I noticed his sideways glance. "You want some time with your godson, don't you?" I guessed.

"How did you know?"

"Lily told me everything," I said. "Before . . . well. Before."

I let Sirius withdraw, and then pull off to the side with Harry, and for a moment I simply watched them, talking quietly, as Lily and James had always wanted. There was a reason Sirius had been named Harry's godfather, and now hopefully, with Pettigrew caught, that relationship could blossom as it should have had.

Then I walked over to Remus, who was staring over the lake, apparently lost in thought, close enough to whirl around and curse Pettigrew but far away enough that he wasn't overbearing.

"Hey," I said quietly.

Remus offered me a small smile. "Sariah."

I took a deep breath. "I am sorry. I – The heat of the moment – I didn't realize – " I gave a frustrated sigh. "What I'm trying and failing to say is, I'm sorry. I was wrong to shout at you. I should have just listened to you."

He turned fully to me, his smile growing wider and gentler. "You needn't apologize," he said quietly. "I understand. Harry and Hermione unleashed quite the torrent on me before we explained about the switch of Peter and Sirius, earlier, in the Shrieking Shack. I swear, she is the brightest witch I've ever known that young. Did you know she has known all along I was . . . well, that she knew what I was?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised. She is very smart." A pause. "And I'm still sorry."

Remus laughed, and then reached for my hand, wrapping warm fingers around my own and drawing me close to him. "And I say, you don't need to apologize."

"So we're even?"

"As of now? I would think so."

"Thanks, Moony."

Remus frowned at me abruptly. "You saw the map?"

"How else did you think I knew you were out here, Remus?" I asked, amused at his almost panicked reaction. "Remus, please – I've known of that silly nickname since seventh year. Or maybe earlier. I'm not quite sure who said it first or when I heard of it, but I always knew it was you. I just didn't know how far you had gotten with it. Will you show me? Later?"

He smiled again. "Of course."

Remus seemed about to say more, but then Hermione's voice yelled, "Harry!"

The full moon.

Remus's eyes grew wide, and then he seized my arms and propelled me backwards so forcefully that I collided with the base of the Whomping Willow and nearly saw stars. A hand grappled at my own hand, and I fought back, dazed and confused, and it was only after I had finished blinking the stars out of my eyes that I felt my wand being ripped from my grasp. I reached out, blindly, and then looked up just in time to see Peter Pettigrew standing before me, a triumphant grin on his face, just before my own wand pointed at me and my whole world went black.


	41. Chapter 39

Day 1 of my Final Finale! (No, we're nowhere near the end of this story, but it's finals, and it's habit so . . . yeah). Today, Sariah wakes up and deals with the fall-out.

* * *

**_Chapter Thirty-Nine_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Sariah Alycone_ ~  
After that, for a long time all I registered were images and sounds, here and there and then gone – a black night filled with stars; a cold, bone-gripping chill; light; walls; bed; potion – all whirling into darkness. I thought I tried to speak, to call for Remus or Sirius, but if I had, probably nothing was comprehensible or I was ignored or shushed by whoever was with me. Even if there _was_ someone was with me. I couldn't tell at all. For all I knew, I was alone, swirling between consciousness and unconsciousness floating on thoughts of Remus and Sirius.

After _that_, regaining consciousness was like a breath of fresh air.

Madame Pompfrey bustled over the second I sat up, looking only mildly concerned. I took that to mean that although I was probably going to have to swallow some nasty potions, I'd probably be okay, despite everything.

"How are you feeling?" she said, all motherly concern.

I rubbed at my forehead. "A bit of a headache," I admitted. I'd learned a long time ago not to lie to her, mainly from watching her humiliate Remus when _he_ had tried. "But other than that, nothing."

She nodded and pushed a cup filled with some potion into my hand. "That's to be expected. From what I heard, though, the spell was mild and there shouldn't be any permanent effects." She smiled at the face I made from the potion, and then continued bustling about, straightening the linens and prodding at my head and shoulders. "You're lucky Professor Snape brought you here before that murderer Sirius Black did – oh, are you all right?"

I coughed again, feeling the burn in my throat as I instinctively tried to spit out the potion I'd swallowed already. "What did you say?"

She gazed at me with concern. "Professor Snape brought you here after you were attacked by Black," she explained. "She also brought Potter, Granger, and Weasley. You're lucky you survived," she scolded, as if I was a student again. "But relax, dear; the Prime Minister is here and no doubt Black will get his due very soon."

"His due?"

"Yes, of course, they'll be performing the Kiss very soon – "

"The _Dementor's Kiss_?" I nearly shouted, springing from the bed. "Madam Pomfrey – "

Her face went still for a moment, and then she pushed me hard, so that I fell to sit back on the bed. "I see the spell Black used addled your mind as well," she said disapprovingly. "Potter and Granger already tried, it's no use. And in any case – "

I seized her hand. "There is _no_ spell addling my mind!" I exclaimed. "I know he's innocent! Look – can I at least see Professor Dumbledore?"

"The Headmaster is already here," she said with a disapproving sniff.

Without asking for permission I knew I wouldn't receive, I pushed past her and through the doors into the main wing. Three people looked up at me – Dumbledore, Harry, and Hermione – as the door swung closed, cutting off Madam Pomfrey's yell that I needed to get back and finish being checked over.

Harry whirled back to Dumbledore. "What about Professor Alycone?" he asked desperately. "Can't she – "

Dumbledore gave me a considering look, and then shook his head. My knees buckled in realization that I couldn't possibly give any reliable testimony – I was far too close to both Remus and Sirius, and even Harry, for that matter. Whatever story Snape had told would probably be too convincing for any testimony of mine to change it; the real story was just _too_ unbelievable, real though it was.

"I'm afraid that she will be of little help," he said gently. "She is also too close to Sirius for her testimony to count. And you've hit your head rather hard, haven't you, my dear?" At my nod, he continued, "It would be far too easy for Professor Snape to dismiss anything she said as something conjured up by her injuries."

I sank onto the nearest bed, shaking. To have found my cousin again only to lose him so soon . . . It was unbearable.

"But – "

"_Listen to me, Harry_. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape's version of events is far more convincing than yours."

"He hates Sirius," Hermione said, desperation in her voice. "All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him – "

"Sirius has not acted like an innocent man," Dumbledore interjected, tone firm but gentle. "The attack on the Fat Lady – entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife – without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius's sentence."

I watched Dumbledore. There was something in his tone. . . "You've talked to Sirius, then?" I interrupted quietly. "You believe him. Us."

Dumbledore hesitated. He stood then, appearing far, far older than he ever had, quiet misery in his eyes. He walked over to me and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Yes, I do," he said quietly, and I closed my eyes in relief. "But, remember, Sariah, that I have no power to make other men see this truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic."

I looked away as his hand fell away from my shoulder. I ached to point out the debt the Minister owed to him – all the times the Minister had asked for his advice, or acted wrongly when Dumbledore had been proved right in the end, and everyone knew that Dumbledore was far wiser and better suited for the position as Minister – but I knew that, in the end, it was all useless. We had no leverage and no evidence. He was right. Without Pettigrew, we had _nothing_.

And now Sirius would suffer the Dementor's Kiss.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "What we need is more _time_."

"But – " Hermione began to say, before her eyes suddenly widened and her words trailed off. "Oh!"

"Now, pay attention," Dumbledore said, looking seriously from Harry to Hermione and back, his words low yet very clear. "Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this, both of you: _you must not be seen_. Miss Granger, you know the law – you know what is at stake. . . _You – must – not – be – seen._"

I looked from Dumbledore to Hermione. There was something passing unsaid between them, something that was giving Hermione the hope that raised her chin, brightened her eyes, and face her face go hard with determination.

"I am going to lock you in," Dumbledore announced as he walked to the door. "It is . . . five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it." He smiled slightly. "Good luck."

There was silence as the door closed.

"Good luck?" Harry repeated incredulously, sounding as confused as I felt. "Three turns? What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do, exactly?"

But Hermione – she was pulling out a fine gold chain from underneath her robes, with a little sparkling hourglass hanging at the bottom, and something fell into place. I had never seen one in person before, but I had studied these types of things at the Ministry of Magic just like everyone had in the beginning, and I knew exactly what I was looking at.

"Time-Turner," I said. "Oh, dear Lord, you've had this all year, Hermione?"

She gave me a sheepish smile, even as she yanked Harry over and threw the chain over his neck. But as she reached for the hourglass, ignoring Harry's rising voice, she hesitated and looked at me.

I shook my head. "No; I'll stay here, thank you. I hate being mixed up in time. And . . . if you don't make it back, someone has to make your excuses."

Hermione gave me a grateful smile. "Thank you."

I stood and stretched, heading for a bed to lie down in near the unconscious Ron, so that Madam Pomfrey could treat us all together. "No need. Sirius is a good friend of mine to. Now go rescue him."

Hermione turned the hourglass three times, delicately, and then from one blink to the next, they were gone.

I crossed my arms, pulling my legs up to sit fully on the bed, and waited.

It seemed like only five seconds later when the door opened again, and a panting Hermione and Harry sprinted in, Hermione frantically tucking the Time-Turner beneath the neck of her robes. There was a sharp click as Dumbledore locked the door, and then silence.

I looked at them.

Harry and Hermione gave me exhausted grins.

I relaxed onto the bed, sighing. "Oh thank God," I whispered. The thought of Sirius undergoing the Dementor's Kiss had hurt even _before_ I'd known he was innocent. Now, at least, he was free . . .

Then the door to Madam Pomfrey's office burst open, and she stormed in, ranting. I exchanged a warning look with Harry and Hermione, and we all quietly accepted the chocolate from her, watching each other between bites and waiting for the inevitable explosion when they realized Sirius was gone. At my fifth piece of chocolate, I heard a distant roar, and smiled tightly.

_Here we go._

"He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out – "

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPRATE!" someone roared – Snape, it sounded like, although I'd never heard him this furious before. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE _OR_ DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE. THIS – HAS – SOMETHING – TO – DO – WITH – POTTER!"

"Severus – be reasonable – Harry has been locked up – "

The doors to the hospital burst open with a loud _bam_ as they slammed into the walls, and then Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding in, angry, furious, and calm, respectively. I leaned against the headboard, alarmed at the anger on Snape's face – and silently raising an eyebrow at Dumbledore's own private amusement, hidden beneath his veneer of calm.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" Snape bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Professor Snape!" Madam Pomfrey yelled. "Calm yourself!"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape continued ranting, pointing straight at them as Harry stared defiantly.

"Calm down, man! You're talking nonsense!" Fudge barked, and for once I was glad to have him there.

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" Snape shrieked, completely beside himself. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT – "

"That will do, Severus," Dumbledore interjected finally, the barest hint of steel in his voice. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not! I was right here the whole time."

"Well, there you have it, Severus. Unless," and here his eyes twinkled, "you are suggesting Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

Snape's eyes snapped to me, and then narrowed. "And you, Alycone?" he snarled.

I raised my chin. "What about me?"

"How do we know _you_ didn't do it?"

And damn, now even Fudge was looking interested. I swallowed quickly, and let my eyes dart to Dumbledore, who inclined his head encouragingly.

"Snape, I can barely walk without my head spinning," I pointed out finally. "How do you suggest I did it? Teleport? And beat you there and then back here without someone noticing? When you explain it, I'll be most interested. Not to mention – " I looked around, frowning "I have no idea where my wand is." I looked back up at Snape. "Well?"

His mouth twisted in disgust, and then he stormed away, muttering angrily under his breath.

I leaned against the headboard again, relaxing, as Fudge and Dumbledore traded a few more words that I knew I wouldn't be interested in. I did smile when I heard about Buckbeak escaping, and internally applauded Harry and Hermione, but other than that, I let myself relax. Sirius was safe. That was all that mattered for now.

And Remus . . .

The realization that he was still in the forest jolted me back awake, but I faked being asleep when Madam Pomfrey came to check. When she was safely away in her office, and Harry and Hermione had relaxed into an exhausted doze, I pushed the blankets away and sat up, staring at the hospital wing doors. Remus would come here first, I knew, once he remembered what had happened. No doubt he'd be horrified at the realization of how close things had come to him biting one of us . . .

Somehow, between that thought and the next, I drifted off.

The next thing I knew, someone was saying my name and shaking my shoulder.

"Go away, I'm waiting for Remus," I grumbled, pushing at them.

The person laughed, and my eyes shot open. I knew that laugh. And sure enough, Remus was standing before me, eyes worn and body tight with exhaustion, but there was a soft smile on his face as he looked at me.

"Remus. . ."

He placed a wand – mine, I knew – on the beside table and crouched before me, running a hand over my shoulder and hair. "Are you all right? Did anyone . . ."

I shook my head, clasping his hand in mine. "No, no one was bitten or anything."

His fingers found the lump on the back of my head, and he grimaced.

"Remus, it's fine." I hesitated. "If you hadn't done that, then . . . maybe things might not be fine."

Remus sighed, but he only stood and carefully maneuvered me back into the bed. I let him, feeling my body relax at the knowledge that everyone was safe, here or – in Sirius's case – far away. "And Sirius?" he murmured, pulling up the sheets and running his fingers through my hair.

"Escaped."

"Good." He leaned down to kiss my head. "I'm glad you're safe. Now go to sleep."

And I did.


	42. Chapter 40

Day 2 of my Final Finale! More fall-out from the Shrieking Shack incident, and here we close with Prisoner of Azkaban.

* * *

**_Chapter Forty_**

**Prisoner of Azkaban**

~ _Remus Lupin_ ~  
"You look horrible."

I sat bolt upright with a start at the voice, and then groaned and slowly lowered myself back down into a sitting position leaning against the headboard as each and every muscle made known a complaint of some sort. When that was all sorted out, I opened my eyes again to find Sariah standing beside me, hands on her hips, looking _extremely_ disgruntled.

"Was that really necessary?"

"I forgot your senses are stronger," she said airily, but she and I both knew that she was a lot more serious than she sounded.

I tried to smile at that, and failed. She knew the capabilities of Moony even better than I did, sometimes – mainly because I'd been too busy trying to bury Moony under everything and anything I could throw at him – and Sariah only attempted to bring humor into the conversation when she was gearing up for a tongue lashing the likes of which even her closest friends would shy away from.

Translation: I had a big ticking time-bomb on my hands.

I rubbed at my forehead. "Sariah, could we perhaps continue this conversation . . . elsewhere?"

"Where else?"

"Not in the hospital wing?"

Sariah snorted, and then plunked down on the bed across from me, drawing her feet up neatly under her. "Remus, we moved you from the hospital wing last night," she explained, playing idly with a loose thread. "Madam Pomfrey said you'd probably recover here better than lying on the floor next to my bed after having passed out _there_ instead of going to your chambers as you were _supposed_ to."

I swallowed. She had a point. It had been my habit, always, to retreat to my chambers, to avoid students from getting suspicious – or, really, to avoid student contact completely. I had gone out of my path to go to the hospital wing after I had transformed back, and it had taken all of my strength, if not more, because the second I had seen Sariah and known she was going to be okay, it was like every bit of strength had fled from my body, and the last thing I had known before the darkness hit me was the ache of my knees connecting with the floor.

"I had to see that you were okay."

Sariah looked at me, her gaze softening. "Remus, I was fine. Madam Pomfrey said that Pettigrew only Stunned me, nothing more."

"Sariah, I _threw_ you into a _tree_," I said sharply. "Forgive me for being a little concerned."

"Wouldn't have helped if you'd brained yourself on the floor afterwards."

"Sariah."

She scowled and then slumped against the backboard, hugging her knees to her chest like it was decades ago and we were students again, trading secrets and chocolate after a full moon. It had been years ago, but I remembered it rather clearly – or, at least, the wolf did, and what the wolf knew, I knew.

_Of course_, Moony agreed. _We are one and the same, in more ways than one. And it _is_ good for you to acknowledge that, pup._

_I'm not so young anymore._

Moony snorted. _Pup._

That, at least, wrangled a reluctant smile out of me.

Sariah noticed. "Moony?" she guessed, her stance softening.

I nodded. "He still hasn't ceased with the endless commentary on everything I've ever done or thought about doing," I said. "I think you've made it worse."

Moony snarled; I ignored him.

Sariah tilted her head. "Sometimes, I bet he gives good advice all the same."

"Not yet, he hasn't."

"Maybe."

"No, I'm fairly certain he hasn't." I took a deep breath. Teasing mode was great with Sariah, but there were still some things I wanted to deal with before she started yelling at me again. "How . . . How's Sirius?"

I knew Sirius had been sentenced to receive the Dementor's Kiss. And for a time, I had even perhaps, maybe, believed that his crime – to turn his back on his solemn oath, to betray Lily and James and Harry, to betray _us all_ – may have merited it. But even then I had had my doubts, for it was a horrible sentence. And when faced with the unquestionable evidence that Sirius had never actually committed the crime. . . Well. I could only hope for the best, shallow as that hope was.

So I wasn't expecting Sariah to grin giddily, like a child. "Sirius Black escaped."

I blinked.

Her grin widened. "Yes, you heard me right, Remus," she said playfully. "Sirius Black escaped last night, sometime before midnight. Fudge and the others have no idea how – he had no wand or help, because the door was guarded, but the Ministry and the dementors have found no trace of him on the grounds." She shrugged. "He's gone."

I let out a long, relieved breath, and slumped into my pillows. "Was it . . ."

She shook her head, anticipating my question, her face turning sorrowful. "No. Dumbledore believes us. But Fudge doesn't. The only comfort we can have is that he didn't escape alone."

"Your work?"

Sariah raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Remus, after being thrown into a tree and Stunned I was immediately able to sneak past Ministry guards and the dozens of dementors in order to free Sirius," she said sarcastically.

"So."

"Yep."

"Do I want to know how?" I finally asked, regretting the words the instant they left my mouth. Harry and Hermione and Dumbledore had come through, somehow, for Sirius – that knowledge should be more than enough for me. "No, never mind, I don't want to know."

Sariah smiled at me, a little softer. "No, you don't."

"I'm just glad it worked."

"Me too."

We basked in the silence a little longer. It was comfortable, to know we were finally on the same page again, with everything, no more secrets between us. And at least Sariah knew the truth now, about Pettigrew and Sirius, because I had dreaded telling her. She had loved Lily fiercely, almost as much as she had detested James and Sirius in the beginning, and I knew that the death of Lily and James had dealt her a strong blow, one which she had never quite forgiven Sirius for. It was a relief to know I wouldn't have to struggle to find the words to explain the situation.

However, I did have something else to explain.

For a moment, I let my gaze linger on Sariah as she stared into the fire, a lazy smile on her face. She was beautiful, even after everything, and so strong. To lose her . . . to lose anyone . . .

I remembered the terrifying loss of control – the shredding of my clothes, the breaking of my bones, the animalistic surge of instinct and crying for blood. And I remembered the startled look on Sariah's face, not fear of me, but fear _for_ me, and the way she had moved towards me instead of away, like a sensible person, as she didn't even have the protection of being an Animagus the way Sirius did.

And I made my decision.

"I might need your help. Later."

"What for?"

" . . . I need to pack. Hopefully, I can leave before the owls start arriving."

Sariah gave me a startled glance. "You're leaving? Why on earth would you _leave_, Remus?" Her voice was surprised, but not yet concerned; she wasn't taking me seriously yet.

I pushed myself off the bed and walked towards the desk. No doubt Dumbledore would argue – fiercely – but my mind was made up, and that would require an official notice of resignation, with the signature and the wording and everything. And it would be best to get things over with now, instead of having to deal with . . . anything else. I couldn't risk this happening again – to anyone – but especially not to Sariah, who I knew without a doubt would definitely do everything she could to push the boundaries, and possibly get hurt, and I . . .

I had suffered enough as a result of being a werewolf. I never wanted Sariah to suffer the same problem.

"Remus – _Remus_ – are you . . ."

"Yes," I said, when she had trailed off, possibly out of shock, or possibly out of anger. "Yes, I am. I will." I closed my eyes, remembering the scene almost too vividly – Sariah, so close, _too_ close, as the wolf burst free – and remembering how close I had been to charging them all and ripping off their heads, all of them, no matter what. I was used to losing control of the wolf, but usually, that loss happened in private – locked in the magically reinforced basement at my house, or caged up in isolation in my chambers or the Shrieking Shack. I hadn't had a proper run-in with someone during the full moon for years.

When I opened my eyes again, Sariah was right in front of me, caught between confusion and concern. "But _why_?" she was asking. "Why would you leave? You've got a job here, the students love you – "

"I could have _killed_ you," I interrupted harshly, taking her shoulders in my hand. "All of you. If Sirius hadn't stopped me. Or worse, just simply . . ."

She touched my cheek. "It wasn't your fault."

I knew Sariah would remain stuck on that point, and I knew she wouldn't back down from it. She was too much like Lily in that sense – loyal to a fault, uncaring about anything else, just like she had been when she had first discovered the truth about my monthly disappearances to become a bloodthirsty, out of control monster.

"Perhaps." I hugged her. "But it doesn't matter. We can't keep this quiet forever, anyways, and I refuse to risk it happening again."

Sariah clung to me, stubborn, flaunting her refusal to let me flee as well as her steadfast belief that I meant her no harm – and while it was somewhat true, as Moony seemed at best adverse and at once indifferent to harming her, I appreciated the sentiment, but I knew I had to turn it down.

"It won't. You have Wolfsbane. It'll be fine."

"Sariah. . ." I sighed and looked her in the eye, trying to convey how serious things were. "I appreciate it. I really do. But you know as well as I do that we have to put people's safety above that. The Wolfsbane keeps me at bay, but – anything can happen to it, you know that. I won't risk it happening again. To anyone." _And especially to you._

She looked away. "So you'll just leave."

I heard the unspoken word she refused to use: _again_.

I touched her hair. "I would prefer to resign now, rather than to force the Headmaster to lose face over this. And, besides . . . I think we can keep in touch."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

And I drew her into a hug again, and I promised that this time, my departure from Hogwarts wouldn't result in another connection broken – to my past, and to the love we'd once shared so many years ago.


End file.
